Lighthouse
by Carly Cisco
Summary: Brittana AU. Warning: Not the usual setting (by setting I mean Ohio). They were orphaned and they lived watching each other's backs. When they were separated, Santana had looked for her best friend ever since. Warnings also for mature content, prostitute themes, drugs and violence. Complete but definitely not over.
1. Chapter 1

**1990**

The sun was shining clear as the city started to bustle. Most people were driving hastily to work and most were having their own businesses. Martin and Nina Lopez were driving in their car, and their 3-year old child was looking out to the window to her content in the backseat. Her face was radiating with sheer pleasure as the bustling city streets drastically turn from bad to worse.

"Martin, look at her," Nina stared at her daughter.

"Santana is such a charm," Martin looked through the rear view mirror.

"I want some ice cream!" the kid mumbled.

"Heard that, Martin? You are so not the boss anymore."

"Yes, she's our unica hija," Martin chuckled as he pulled into a Coffee Cream shop. What he wasn't aware was, two pairs of eyes were watching their car as they pulled up the parking lot.

"They are entering the shop, the wife has the target. Let's move. It's payday," one of the mouths who goes with the eyes said. They entered the shop.

"Sit down, child." Nina Lopez said to her daughter as she sat her up on a high chair.

"Mama, I want ice cream!" Santana Lopez bawled, earning her a few good looks from the other people that were in the ice cream shop.

"Shhhhh…" her mother tried to silence her. A man stood beside her and asked in an accent she can't recognize.

"Ma'am is someone occupying this table?" he asked. Nina could not see the whole of his face because he was wearing dark glasses.

"No, sir. I don't think so."

"You're not from here, aren't you? Are you alone?"

_Don't talk to strangers, Nina._

"No. My husband and I are together."

"Yeah, I can see that. Where's your husband?"

"There he is." Nina pointed to Martin, who was leaning on the counter, paying for two coffee floats and a sundae.

"Okay. I was curious." The man threw her a smile.

"It's okay." Nina smiled.

_Maybe he wasn't a bad guy after all._ But there was something tingling about the man. She just can't point it out. The man sat down beside their table. Martin arrived and handed her the cups, which in turn she gave the sundae to her daughter. Santana ate it messily, dripping the substance from her chin to her floral blouse.

Another man came in and nodded at the sitting man next to Nina. There was an awkward feeling dripping in Nina's heart. She knew something would happen. However, she shook the thought away when her daughter tugged at her three-fourths sleeve.

"Mamaaaa!" Santana bawled out, blowing raspberries and dripping her sundae across her face, Nina cleaned and wiped it off expertly.

"I was thinking of heading out to Brazil for a month with the both of you," Martin smiled at his wife and daughter.

"Well, that would be awesome!" Nina said. However, the strange feeling that Nina Lopez had been having was still in her heart.

Then it all happened. The man behind Nina took out a gun and shot Nina. Martin grabbed hold of the gun and shot the first man. But Martin was shot, too.

The other man aimed at the child. However, the fallen man came and spoke something in a foreign language. The people in the shop were running out of the shop, some were crouching on the floor and the child had been bawling because of the commotion.

"San Martin…de Paule…Parish." It was a short statement. Nothing like an angry order.

The other man looked at the bleeding man. "Yes, Brother."

"U-use…th-the…b-ack…do-or," the laying, bloody man slurred and took his last breath. His blood mixing with Martin's and Nina's. The man took the crying Lopez baby, took out Martin's briefcase and wallet and left through the back door.

On that very day, the priests in San Martin de Paule Parish saw a crying child wrapped in a bloody cloth beside the chapel doors.

"Such an angel!" A balding priest named Angelo exclaimed.

"Yes, yes, very true," a bent, thin priest, Father Mariano agreed.

"What is the name? Do you know what her name is, Father Carlos?" Father Angelo asked curiously.

"There's no name," Father Carlos, the plump priest who picked up the child said as he examined the child's face.

"What's your name, little one?"

"Mamaaaa!" the child bawled, after seeing strange faces.

"Here, here…" the plump priest cooed.

"What's your name, child?"

"Tana…" the child babbled incoherently.

"Tana? A queer name indeed," Father Carlos said, his forehead scrunching.

"But, we can give her a name…maybe it's really another name…" Father Angelo said.

"Maybe it's Ana," Father Mariano mumbled.

"Feast of Santa Ana," Father Angelo smiled.

"Hey, look at her kerchief. Her name is Santana," Father Angelo pointed out the blue bib.

"Yes, yes…but…what is her last name? Surely her parents must be looking for her."

They waited for days…and the days turned to weeks…and weeks turned to months…

_No one came looking for her._

**1991**

Robbie Pierce felt a small hand tug at his sleeve as the lightning from outside flashed.

"Dad, can I have a…sundae?" the four-year old blonde girl nudged her father.

"Yeah, just ask for it from your Mom," Robbie leaned on his plane seat. They were riding over San Paulo, and the family was on their way to Italy.

"Sir, we have to turn back," the aide-de-camp said. "The storm is causing too much turbulence and we're afraid we can't make it."

"Why? Can't we just go around it?"

"We'll try, sir."

Robbie went back on reading the book he was too invested on while Anne Pierce laid a hand on his side.

"Rob, let's turn back."

"Why? We can't miss the Camerons," Robbie said and waved off his hand.

"I don't feel like travelling in this storm," Anne softly said.

"Hey, we will be fine. Captain Moncrieff will take care of-" there was a sudden shudder as the lights went out.

The last thing he saw was Anne bucking forward.

"Anne?" Robbie shouted as

"Hey, we will be okay, alright?" Robbie stretched his arms towards the darkness. There was no one.

"Daddy!" Brittany's shriek rose against the rush of wind. A streak of vicious lightning cut through the air, missing the plane by inches.

Or had it really missed them?

Robbie looked for his daughter but the plane suddenly canted downward, pulling all of them into the trees below.

Robbie tried hard to regain his upright position and looked for Anne. She was on the floor, a pool of blood.

"Daddy!" Brittany shrieked as another bolt of lightning streaked into the sky.

"I'm coming!"

Suddenly, the plane hit the first leaves of the trees below and Robbie was thrown forward as he unclasped Brittany's seatbelt.

The plane was in a tangle of trees before half of it was burnt.

A few hours after, the sun shone over the mass on tangled leaves, twisted metal and four dead bodies. The tail was still on the air and on fire.

An old, poor woodcutter caught sight of the tangled mess and he tried to walk back to call the local police when a sniff came from under the freshly burnt bird.

The old man checked to the place where he had heard the sniff, and now it turned into small whimpers. And there, under the burnt left wing, was a young, blonde child was crying. The child's face was bloody because of a concussion on her left side of the forehead. The blonde hair was entangled in a mess, some of it soaked by the flaking blood.

Seeing the sight, the poor woodcutter quickly took the child home to safety.

Carefully, the man carried her home. During the descent from the mountain, the child fell asleep in the man's arm. He reached the small shack where he and his wife lived.

"Quick, woman, let's nurse this child," he said as he burst through the door. An elderly woman met him.

Using only a towel, a few vinegars, water and some herbs, the old couple dressed the young child's wounds. They made the child sleep on the bed, whilst the both of them sat on the steps of their shack.

"We can't raise her," the poor woodcutter's wife said.

"I know. What will we do?" the old man said.

"I don't know. The orphanage, perhaps?" the old woman answered, as she looked towards the lighted monastery on top of a hill several miles farther downward from their shack.

"Tomorrow, I will bring her there," the poor woodcutter said.

The old couple exchanged looks, and then the woman stood up, and walked over to the child. She stared at their little guest, and then made up their side of the bed, and turned in for the night.

The air was still crisp and a faint glow of pink lined the eastern sky as the old woodcutter stepped out of the shack, and in his arms was a sleeping child clad in rags. He carefully made his way towards the monastery of the nuns.

The Sisters of Passion were a small order that housed at most eighty children. They were living just near the San Martin De Paule. And the old man was certain that they would take the child in.

Pretty soon, he reached the monastery's front door. The whole place was quiet, although the old man knew that the sisters behind the walls were awake. He softly laid the child on the doorstep and with one quick look, he left the child.

Sister Lucia, a nun from the convent came out the door shortly after. She was carrying a bag of wastepaper, humming to herself. To her surprise, her eyes landed on the rags. And a little blonde child, sleeping on it.

"Ay Dios mio!" the nun exclaimed as she made a sign of the cross. She quickly took the child in her arms and carried to the child to her Mother Superior.

"Clearly, this child was put upon our midst," the Mother Superior said.

"Yes, so what will we do?" Sister Patricia, a skinny, lanky nun at around the age of her late fifties asked.

"Of course, we have to adopt her," the Mother stated.

"What is her name? Is there any way that would trace back to her real identity?"

"So far, no. There is nothing. Except for this," the Mother Superior held out a hankie. "Her name is Brittany."


	2. Chapter 2

**2000**

The sun seeped slanted into the dark halls of San Martin de Paule church as Santana cleaned the altars and chipped off the candle from the candelabra, a candle bearer that seemed to look like a chandelier.

"Oh, Tana! Bless you child," Father Angelo mumbled as the young girl went to kiss his hand.

"Good afternoon, Father Angelo," Santana smiled. She was nothing but cordial to everyone she sees.

"Bless you," the priest's hand made the sign of the cross. "Shouldn't you be outside? The children from the orphanage are out in the meadows, playing."

"I don't think so, Father. I will just stay here, clean these sacred things God has left for us."

"Come on, child. You should let that skin taste the sun. Our father has given us those things too," Father Angelo muttered.

He loved Santana very much. And he knows that the young girl had been attracted to the things the Church had assigned her to do. Every day, Santana gets up early in the morning and swept the floors, washes the windows and basically just does everything by herself. She had been doing it ever since she was taken in ten years ago. She was just a toddler that time, and the priests had been the only people there for her. The Church had been Santana's refuge, her home.

Although there were children her age at the orphanage, Santana doesn't talk to them very much. And instead of playing with these children, and she just stays in the choir room, singing to herself and her own God.

Santana gave out a smile as she tried to read the priest's mind and let out a low chuckle.

"Alright, Father Angelo. But I will just look," Santana said as she went to the adjoining room towards the hallway to the convent.

"It's alright," Father Angelo smiled at Santana as he went out the left side of the altar towards the Garden of Saints.

Santana, on the other hand sat under a beech tree in the far corner of the meadow as she watched the children from orphanage as they dashed to and fro right on front of her.

Santana had never liked the careless children, especially the one that was trying to lead them around. It was a tall, lanky, blue-eyed girl around her age. They call her Brittany the Devil. They say every conspiracy inside the orphanage started from the blonde.

_Well, Santana had grown up being disciplined, so how could someone blame her if she would think that way?_

The children were playing with a ball, with Brittany throwing it. Santana enthusiastically watched them, albeit silently.

The children had tried to ignore her too, so Santana never really minded.

They had been passing the ball back and forth when it was Brittany's turn to throw again. She quickly threw it towards a wall and the ball bounced off the brick wall. It suddenly hit a window on the monastery.

Sister Lucia was instantly there, she was hurrying and her habit had been a little rumpled.

"My god! What did you do this time, Brittany?" the nun exclaimed. She was really worried. Brittany had been the problem child. If something goes wrong in wherever, it has to be Brittany's fault.

"I did nothing!" Brittany screamed out angrily.

"Lying is bad, Brittany," Sister Lucia said.

"I'm not lying."

"What did Brittany do today?" the nun asked the other children.

None of them said a word, because they wanted to protect Brittany. When they needed something, Brittany is the one who asks for it to the nuns.

"What happened?" Sister Lucia almost begged.

The children stayed quiet, and then looked at the broken monastery window.

"You cased this, Brittany?" Sister Lucia asked the blonde.

Brittany, seeing that she's stuck in a dead alley, softly nodded. She doesn't like to be punished, but right now, she just wanted to cut the chase off.

"Come with me. We will have a talk with the Mother Superior."

Santana looked at the blonde girl walking back towards the monastery and she chuckled to herself.

_Bless that kid_, Santana chuckled to herself.

The Mother Superior paced back and forth inside her office and Brittany eyed her suspiciously.

"Today, you have committed a mistake," the elder sister said.

"It wasn't my fault," Brittany wailed. "It's the engineers' fault because if it wasn't for them, the monastery would've existed somewhere else!"

"If they weren't there then, you weren't supposed to be here."

"It's unfair!"

"It is fair. You hit the window with a ball; you should be there to pay for it."

"Fine, so what will I do?" Brittany said, the annoyance was clear in her voice.

"You will clean the parish church, in the morning. You have to get up at four in the morning, and then start cleaning."

"What? How am I supposed to do that?"

"Santana, the priests' helper will help you."

Brittany scowled. The anger was just around the corner. But, the blonde kept her own emotions in check.

"Why can't she just do it all by herself?" Brittany wailed as she let her blonde brows furrow.

"Because, this is a sanction. You know pretty well that you had done something wrong, don't you Brittany?" the mother superior said sternly.

"Yes," Brittany meekly answered. She really gets jumpy when the Mother Superior uses her stern voice.

"Sister Lucia, would you please accompany Brittany to the storage room, to get the brooms and cleaning materials?" the Mother Superior said.

"Yes, Mother," Sister Lucia said softly and beckoned for Brittany to follow her. Brittany followed her reluctantly, swearing to herself.

"Brittany, please, stop that," Sister Lucia said calmly.

"What? What did I do?" Brittany said defensively.

Sister Lucia did not say a word as she led Brittany to the hallway towards the convent and introduced Brittany to Father Carlos.

"Father, this is Brittany. She will be helping with Santana to clean up the church," Sister Lucia said.

"Bless you, Sister Lucia, but Santana has finished cleaning the church altars, and she is now at the garden. How about letting dear Brittany help her in the garden?"

Brittany let out a snort of disgust as she rolled her eyes in disapproval.

She will never have someone to help her, or in this case, she would never, ever try to help someone get out of their miseries. Brittany mentally rectified herself, knowing full well that she would never lend a hand.

_It's her fucking problem if it annoys her when I don't help. _

They came into the large, shaded garden with a koi pond. It was beautiful, alright. But knowing that everyone had expected her to clean the whole place, Brittany just scowled.

"Hello, Santana," Sister Lucia smiled at the back of a crouched person who was busily feeding the fishes.

_If it wasn't for the nun there, Brittany would have kicked that person into the water._

The crouching figure named Santana straightened up and smiled as she rubbed her hands on a clean towel.

"Hello, Sister Lucia," she said politely. Then the brunette averted her eyes towards the blonde.

"Good afternoon," her brown eyes pierced into Brittany's very own blue ones.

"Santana, this is Brittany. She will be going to help you clean up the garden, I hope you would be kind enough to teach her stuff," Sister Lucia smiled.

"Well, I will be kind if she will be kind, too," Santana confidently said as the blonde girl cockily looked at her.

Sister Lucia smiled. "Careful, Tana. She's a handful. I am not saying she's bad, just a handful so, keep an eye on her. Well, I should be going for now," Sister Lucia left the two of them.

"I don't want to help you," Brittany stated flatly. She wouldn't give a damn if she would drive the brunette into a fit.

"It's not all of the time that you would get what you want," Santana said softly and moved to the edge of the garden and started raking the dry leaves. She did not ask for Brittany to help, and she did not even bother to check on her.

Santana stooped down too pick up a few leaves that fell on the turtle's home when a hand came up, bringing a barrel for Santana to fill up with leaves.

"Here's the barrel," it was the same set of deep-blue eyes. Santana gave out a charming smile, but Brittany just turned away.


	3. Chapter 3

Santana gave out a smile every time Brittany would see her, or when they would graze their sight on each other. However, Santana remained aloof as they worked though the garden. She doesn't want Brittany to come closer to her. It was as if the both of them had walls between them

"Do you like working your ass off here?" Brittany asked with a challenged tone.

_Let's see if you'd not bite back._

"Yes, it makes me feel at peace," Santana smiled as she sat beside the blonde who was cross-sitting on the grass. She silently twiddled her fingers around her dark locks.

"Let's go out of here, tonight," Brittany suggested. "Let's dance."

Santana stared at her in utter disbelief. And Brittany stared back. "Dance with me," she said confidently.

_How could this woman, no teenager tell her about dancing? Had she been sneaking out from the orphanage?_

"Just because you want it, doesn't mean you'll have it your way," Santana smiled regretfully and stood up. The Latina walked towards the pond and bent towards the water. The blonde pouted behind Santana's back.

_She doesn't have a life._

Brittany threw a pebble, hitting Santana's butt. The brunette gave her a sharp look.

"Sorry," Brittany tried hard to contain her laugh. To her, Santana's face was comical. The Latina turned her back on her. Brittany picked up another pebble and threw it to Santana, who was busily bending over a clump of water lily. It hit her ass' left cheek.

The Latina looked at her again. This time, Santana was almost about to say something when another pebble hit her chest.

"Please stop," Santana said nonchalantly.

"I don't want to," Brittany stuck a tongue out.

"Please, stop that," Santana grimaced.

Santana made her way towards the door which leads to the dark hallway, and the blonde followed suit, lankily walking with her hands in the pockets of her short jeans.

"This place is kind of freaky," the blonde looked around the dark hallway. It was only lighted by the flickering lights of the candles.

"Sure looks like you're not scared. This smells funny though. Smells like corpses," Brittany rolled her eyes as she did not receive a reply from Santana.

"You should set up a club or joint or something right inside here!" Brittany said aloud. "It's cold, dark, desolate. Not to mention that the cops wouldn't suspect."

Santana turned to her with vicious, cold eyes. "Please, stop it. Ever since you were here, all you did was annoy me. Please stop it. I don't like to say bad things, so please just stay away."

Brittany did not say anything, but sat on the edge of the staircase which led to the basement. A priest came in and handed a plastic bag to Santana.

"Good afternoon, Father Mariano, how are you?" Santana asked after she kissed the priest's hand.

"Ah, Santana, it's always good. Thank you. Put that fish into pond, I just got it from a friend. He would certainly make a good addition." The priest motioned to two pink-finned fishes swimming inside the plastic bag.

"By the way, I heard that a child from the orphanage is here?" the priest's eyes averted their gaze to the blonde.

"Yeah, that's me," Brittany said as if the priest was the number one idiot in the world.

Father Mariano wore a pained look. And Santana couldn't take it.

"Brittany, stop that and get out," Santana flatly said.

"Santana, let her go."

Santana did not say a word. But she stared at the blonde viciously that it scared the hell out of the blonde. The priest gave her a squeeze in the hand to keep her in check.

Santana was never the kind of person you'd want to deal with when she gets angry. She can say anything that's bad. And sometimes, Santana can get physical. The priests had long-known about it. And they only saw Santana's outbursts rarely. But it was more than enough to have them warned about Santana's attitude.

"Put the fishes into the water," Father Mariano calmly said. He then turned to Brittany. "You can go home."

"Okay, excuse me," Santana said. "I will just let him go to his new home."

Santana bent over the pond as she carefully put the fishes into the water. She smiled to herself as she cooed to animals.

"Have a good life. You have your new home. I will be your friend, we will play together," Santana smiled and went inside, and up the stairs to the convent's attic, where she had her bedroom.

Her bedroom was not really much. All that she had was a bed, a desk, a straight-backed chair that matched the colour of the bed and the desk. It was made of ebony, which had turned into lustre after years and years of usage. There was a bureau, also identical with the other furniture that contained her books. On top of the things she had were a Bible and a crucifix and a three-pronged candelabrum. True, it wasn't much, but Santana was content.

Contentment was also one trait the priests had taught her. Santana was always content of what she has. And it always came in a handy to Santana.

She quickly opened a drawer and took out her pen and she breathed deep, real deep. She started to write in her diary.

She thought about the blonde as she scribbled words on a fancy notebook.

She's kind of happy. But all those happiness could never hide the pained look in her eyes. It's like the blonde had something deep inside her that Santana could never explain or point out. It was something lonely. Santana couldn't see why or how it did happen but all she can see about Brittany was never the dominating, rebellious child. It was a lonely soul, alone, helpless and wanting to be loved.

Santana quickly finished writing all that had happened that day and she started to kneel in front of a wooden crucifix. She solemnly made the sign of the cross and started her nightly rosary.

Santana grew up with the idea that she had to pray the rosary each night. And also in the morning, before she gets out of bed. The whole thing was not a routine to her. It was an essential process. Ant to Santana, it was as important as breakfast.

The whole night, Santana slept. It was a night to be very grateful because she did not have nightmares. On some nights, Santana would dream of shooting and screaming and blood. It had made her so uncomfortable.

She had and anger outburst when she had nightmares. Sometimes, she'd wake up in the night, her forehead all sweaty. Oftentimes, Santana had woken up the acolytes because she had been screaming for help. Of course, they rushed to Santana, only to find a shaking, scared Santana.

The sun wasn't shining yet, when Santana finished her rosary. She stared into the rosy sky. She quietly thanked God that Brittany wouldn't be in the curch. She had enough of the blonde the last time they met.

She quickly went down the stairs and sat down for breakfast. The three priests were there, and four other acolytes as they dove into the food.

Talk wasn't necessary in eating. And Santana ate her food quietly. She was really thankful for the day. She had a little work and she can go to the music room all the time she can.

Santana loved to play instruments. And she loves to sing. She wanted to be known to the world. And she wanted to make the priests proud.

Suddenly, Sister Lucia from the orphanage walked into the hall. Behind her was a shy-looking girl. Santana had to scoff at their assessment.

"Good morning, Father," Sitter Lucia started to say something. "Brittany here wants to help with Santana."

There was a clatter of silverwares and a choking sound from Santana. She can't believe that she had to deal with that impossible teenager again!

_And she can't stand her in a few hours.!_

**I am really sorry it took me forever in writing this. It's just that I have my final exams this week. I hope you understand. Thank you guys! **


	4. Chapter 4

Brittany swaggered across the room as Santana was folding a few freshly-washed curtains and tablecloths and piling them on top of another to form a very neat stack.

"That's impressive," Brittany mumbled.

"Can you carry those blue and green tablecloths to the storeroom upstairs?" the Latina asked. She wanted the blonde to stay out of her way, because the blonde was all mischief and she's afraid of what might happen if they would go together.

"Fine," Brittany clicked her tongue, but suddenly cast a devilish smirk on her face. However, it was just one quick graze, because Santana hadn't seen it.

Santana was busily carrying the stacks of boxes on her shoulders towards the upper storeroom. Suddenly, her left foot caught into something and she had lost her balance.

A messy Santana fell onto the floor. She eyed the blonde sharply and tried to take in calming breaths.

"Hi," Brittany beamed at her, mockingly gazing below her as she sprawled her legs openly on the floor. "You look funny."

"Why do you have to be such a headache?" Santana hissed through clenched teeth.

"I'm not. I just like to play pranks on you."

"You never learn, do you? What's your problem with me?" Santana said. She can't even look at the blonde. Tears were threatening to fall form her eyes.

_But she'll not let her see her crying._

"You are such a baby," Brittany blew out a raspberry.

Santana wasn't able to take it anymore. She sat on the cold mortared floor and started to cry. Brittany, on the other hand, started to get scared and sat beside the brunette.

"Don't be such a baby and cry just there! I did not do anything," Brittany said worriedly. "Please don't cry. If someone sees us together in this state and you are crying they will think that I did this. They will tell Mother Superior and she will sanction me again!"

"Because you really did this!" Santana screamed as she ran out of the room, leaving Brittany in the middle of the room to dwell in her thoughts.

The blonde looked out the window and saw Santana running to the woods. Somehow, she had felt a tug in her heart, telling her that she can't bear to see Santana cry.

_That she can't afford to hurt Santana._

"Right, the woods," Brittany muttered to herself. And she felt a tug in her heart as she started to run down the staircase and follow the brunette had treaded on.

The woods were dark and desolate. And the overcast sky made it only darker to tread on. Brittany was stepping into the first screen of trees and quickly looked for Santana. The tall woods made it even harder to look for the brunette.

"Santana!" Brittany yelled. An echo bounced back to her, making her yelp at the fear that some animals might be out there, ready to cause them harm. She knows Santana won't be able to protect herself.

She had to protect her, from any harm.

_Wait, what?_

She came across a dry riverbed and something caught her ears. Buzzing of flies. A stench followed it shortly as she came across a carcass of a dead animal. Its insides were torn as if a bigger animal had been there to slash it with venomous claws.

It sent chills running down Brittany's spine.

"Santana!" she called out again. And again, there was an echo.

It wasn't because Brittany was scared. It was because she felt guilty. She felt guilty because she made fun of Santana. But it wasn't just that.

It was more than guilt. There is something more powerful about it other than guilt. But Brittany was beyond scared to even name it.

She stepped into a clump of bushes and saw a leg. She first thought it was already Santana's detached leg and heard a sniff. Santana's face was buried in her arms.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Brittany sat a few feet beside Santana, who had her chin on her knee. The brunette did not respond to Brittany.

The blonde inched closer to Santana. "Sorry. I was just forced to do it."

Santana looked up to her with questioning eyes. And with a hurtful voice she managed to croak out.

"Why, Brittany?"

"I…I just wanted to be…to be visible," Brittany stared at her feet. "I'm sorry."

_Why was she even doing this? Clearly she wasn't in her sensible mind._

"You don't have to do bad things just to be visible," Santana replied softly.

"Are you mad at me?" Brittany asked.

"I should be. But, I don't know. I know that I should be mad, but I don't think I could do that," Santana replied with a weak smile.

"So, you are saying that…you forgive me?"

"We can be friends, even," Santana heard herself say.

_What? She just made friends?_

"Really?" Brittany replied enthusiastically. For a while, Santana could see the life back in the blue eyes.

"Yes," Santana nodded. Not missing a second, Santana felt herself being engulfed in a big hug.

"Thank you," Brittany giggled. Then her tone became serious. "No one ever made friends with me before."

"I thought…what about those kids that go with you?"

"They stick up with me, because they had to. It's some sort of a social chart, you know," Brittany smiled sadly. "Don't you feel lonely, Santana?"

"I admit, I do. But I am kind of used to it," Santana smiled. "Besides, Brittany, you really don't have to be with those kids. You can make a difference."

Brittany only gave out a sad, weak smile.

They sat quietly, watching the stars begin their silent marching parade in the sky.

"They're beautiful," Brittany mumbled as she gazed at them.

"Yeah, do you know what made them beautiful?" Santana asked.

"No. I don't know. Do you know?" Brittany asked.

"Me neither," Santana chuckled.

"Then maybe we should try to look for the answer together, starting from now."

"Yeah, sure!" Santana grinned. "You with me?" the Latina held out her left pinkie finger.

"Yup!" Brittany entwined her right pinkie firmly around the Latina's.

A silence hung upon them as Santana looked intently at Brittany. She had been right long before.

_There is more to the blonde than being a badass._

"Yeah, sure," Brittany leaned on a tree. "We have to go home now."

"Yeah, we should," Santana rose up and started to walk. Suddenly she stopped short and stared at Brittany.

"I forgot."

"Great," Brittany mumbled. "Me too."

Santana sat on a tree trunk. "We're in deep trouble."

"I can sense that," Brittany sat beside her. "But we're in this together. Don't worry about us. We just have to survive one night in here."

"What one night? This place is never safe!" Santana wailed.

"Hey, calm down. Don't worry okay?" Brittany held on Santana's shoulders. "I'll keep you safe."

Santana looked into the translucent azure eyes and nodded weakly. She looked as if she had just lost her last ray of hope. "You're not going to leave me?"

"Never. I won't leave you. Not now, not ever," Brittany said pensively.

Santana leaned her head on her newfound best friend and protector. Brittany stroked the raven-coloured hair and hummed out a little tune.

"You can sleep if you want," Brittany smiled to herself and propped her own back on the trunk. "Are you hungry?"

"Would it be okay if I say yes?" Santana said softly.

The blonde held out a piece of bread that was wrapped in brown paper. "Well, that's all we can manage for now."

Santana split the bread in half. But, before she can gobble it up, she turned to Brittany. "Where did you get this? This bread isn't from the convent's kitchen."

It took Brittany some time to answer, as if she was weighing things down in her own mind. "I sneaked in the orphanage's pantry earlier this morning," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Santana hesitated and looked at her half-piece of bread.

"Look, San, we're hungry. I think God will understand," Brittany grinned.

It was true; Santana's stomach had been bothering her. She smiled at Brittany and took a bite. "I think He will understand."

They ate the bread and sat in silence as the night waned on. Santana tried to close her eyes, but the cold night air is piercing her skin viciously, making it impossible to fall into a decent sleep.

"Here," Brittany wrapped her arms around the Latina to keep her warm. "You shouldn't have run here in the first place."

"Right now, I am starting to regret why I did," Santana snuggled into Brittany. The blonde chuckled at her remark and pretty soon, they settled into a comfortable silence.

They held each other, providing their own body heat to each other. Suddenly there was a shudder by the bush and a familiar scent was caught in the downwind and grazed on Brittany's nostrils. It all felt too familiar with her. She had seen the utility boy from the orphanage skin something that smells like what she is smelling right now.

Brittany scrambled to her feet, waking a sleepy Santana.

"Santana, get up the tree," she ordered. "Quick."

Santana scrambled to her feet and started to climb the tree in a very clumsy manner. Brittany saw this and started to push her up. "Quick!" the panic was in Brittany's face.

"I don't know how to climb trees!" Santana complained.

Brittany climbed up beside Santana. They were nowhere the safe side and they are running out of time. "Hold on to my back."

Santana obeyed and stuck to Brittany's back as they climbed several branches and Brittany set Santana safely on a branch. She sat beside the brunette. Both girls looked below.

A pack of wolves were tearing the carcass of a young fawn underneath their tree. Some of the wolves were starting to notice them and were snarling at them with killer fangs, ready to tear them both to pieces.

"Okay, how do we get down," Santana asked nervously.

"I don't know. Wait till morning?"

"What?" Santana quipped. Tears started to run across the Latina's cheeks.

"Look, we're in this together. We'll be safe," Brittany wiped Santana's tears. "I'll keep you safe. We will get through this safely. You and me."

_Brown eyes met the blue ones and Santana instantaneously knew she believed in Brittany. _


	5. Chapter 5

Santana walked towards the door and opened it, revealing a happy, smiling Brittany.

"Hi!" Brittany grinned widely.

"Hello, how are you?" Santana smiled. It had been two years since Brittany had been the best friend and they had grown very close to each other.

No matter how Santana would look at it, it kind of made her wonder how she ended up as Brittany's best friend. It's not like they were out there, hanging out together. It was like, they have their own little things and own little time in their own little world.

It wasn't pathetic. It's just what Santana had wanted, a silent friendship.

The afternoon sun glowed over Brittany's hair as they sat under a tree by the edge of the meadow. It was just like those afternoons Santana wanted to spend with her best friend. Silent.

"I am good. Come," Brittany took her hand and quickly ran up the stairs as she quickly made it to the choir room.

"What is this?" the Latina asked as Brittany sat in front of the piano.

"Nothing," Brittany said and started to play a very soulful song. The words bore through Santana's heart.

_When the day comes to an end_

_Stars fill the sky…_

_I'll kiss the lids above your eyes,_

_And sing you good night…_

"Brittany!" someone called for her. The blonde quickly stared at Santana, her blue eyes mirroring the sadness of going back to the orphanage. The Latina nodded in agreement.

"I have to go back to the orphanage…" Brittany whispered, almost teary-eyed.

"It's alright; you'll be back tomorrow, right?" Santana said, pleadingly in that matter.

"Of course, I will be back right after I finish my chores," Brittany grinned. She quickly skipped towards the door.

"Britt!" Santana called, and the blonde quickly turned back and got the brunette's message.

_Santana wanted her hug._

"Good bye, San…" Brittany mumbled regretfully as she squeezed the Latina's back.

"Bye Britt…thanks for today…" Santana whispered into the blonde's ear.

"Yeah, me too…take care, okay?"

"Of course, you too…I'll see you tomorrow…be a good girl in the orphanage, okay?" Santana hugged Brittany tight, as if she wouldn't want to let go of the blonde.

Brittany nodded softly on Santana's shoulders. The Latina slowly let the blonde go and watched her walk out of the door.

Santana herself walked towards her room and sat by the window, watching the lights from the orphanage. What would she give up for a night with her best friend!

But, instead, she turned to her prayers and after them; she quickly climbed on the bed and turned in for the night.

The next morning was the same as all the mornings all throughout the year for Santana. She rose up earlier, just before the first rays had entered the small room and she went out to sit with the priests.

She started to clean the church altar after breakfast, and through the day. At mid-afternoon, she was done cleaning the garden and she had moved up to the choir room.

As she was bending over the insides of a Rhodes piano, a loud thump came from the door and she opened it casually. A tuft of blonde hair was in front of her.

"Hi, Tana!" Brittany grinned.

"Hi," Santana replied coolly and gave out some way for the blonde girl to pass.

The blonde stuttered towards the piano and sat in front of it again.

"I did not get to play the whole song for you yesterday," Brittany smiled.

"Why don't you play it for me right now?" Santana smiled enthusiastically. The blonde had this effect on her that would make her feel giddy all the time.

"I am going to," Brittany pouted and hit one key.

_If there's one thing I know I can show you_

_What it means to be free but still hold you…_

_So now the chills are running down my spine_

_And we won't be needing to say goodbye,_

_I'm here to stay so we can say goodnight…_

Santana listened all through the song, with tears forming silently on her eyes. She had wondered why Brittany had sung a song for her. It was not like her…although the blonde loved music, but she shouldn't do it…

_Close your eyes…_

_I'll keep you safe…_

Santana's heart thumped loudly across her chest.

Brittany was looking at her with tearful eyes as the blonde continued on playing.

_Though we're far for long_

_You can play this song…_

_So you'll know I care,_

_When I can't be there…_

_When I gave you myself,_

_I won't let go…_

Tears ran on Santana's tan cheeks

_Was Brittany saying good bye to her?_

"Thank you," she sat beside the blonde and decided that she would just play it cool and nonchalant.

_How could she tell her? She can't bear to see Santana break. Not in front of her…_

"You're welcome," Brittany leaned on her best friend's shoulders. It felt comfortable, strong, and dependable. It was like, she can't live without Santana. She can't make it put there without her. She can't leave. She can't be a grown-up.

_Oh God! Why does she have to grow up?_

A comfortable silence hung over them as they just cherished the moment they were in.

_There might no more of this._ Brittany thought.

"San?" Brittany said worriedly. Her mind hand been playing hopscotch from telling her and letting her go or just leaving her.

"Yes? What is it, Britt?" Santana asked calmly and tenderly, not knowing of Brittany's inner dilemma as she grazed a hand on the milky cheek.

"I'm turning sixteen next week," Brittany stared at the brunette as if she would cry. Then without another thought, she sobbed.

"I have to leave the orphanage, Santana," Brittany's tears fell down as she scooted over towards Santana's shoulder and sought for comfort in them.

"Why are you crying?" Santana asked, caressing the golden hair.

"Why? We will be separated," Brittany cried loudly.

"Did I tell you we will be?" Santana raised a brow. "I never said that."

Santana's voice was warm, calm and composed. It was like Santana was never scared of losing Brittany.

"But, you have your life here, in this church," Brittany replied as she rolled her eyes across the room. "I can't live without you. You had been my family and I would be a mess without you."

"No, unfortunately, I had made a promise to someone that I should stand by them," Santana smiled sweetly at her best friend.

"What do you mean?"

"When you leave," Santana drew in a deep breath. "I am going with you."


	6. Chapter 6

Brittany looked at Santana as she went out of the front doors of the convent. She was dragging a canvas bag and looked at Brittany sheepishly.

"Santana," Brittany smiled proudly at her. Somehow, it made Brittany feel happy, that Santana will go with her. But what made her happier was the fact that Santana will live with her, and face life together with her.

"Let's go," Santana smiled.

Three priests came out of the door and smiled at them both. Father Mariano spoke up first.

"Good luck, Santana. We know, you will never allow to be separated from Brittany, so…well, we wish you the best…"

"Thank you, father. I will never forget your kindness. To me and to Brittany. It's just that, we have to go and make our dreams…"

"Santana, don't ever forget us," Father Angelo said. "And you too, Brittany."

"Yes father, we won't…thank you so much, Father Angelo, for telling us that there is a job for us in the city," both girls chorused together. Father Carlos was softly whimpering on by Father Angelo's side.

"Aww, Father Carlos…" Santana drawled as she pulled the crying priest close. "I will be back soon," she uttered a promise, not just to Father Carlos, but also to the other priests as well.

The two girls left the church, waving as they went by, holding hands together. They boarded the train and made their way to the city of Cebu.

The train ride was not that long and the girls had reached their destination in an hour. Santana took their bags and Brittany held hands with her best friend as they weaved their way through the surge of people.

"In a few years, San…you will see me on TV, dancing and singing like her…" Brittany pointed to a video playing Britney Spear's music video.

"Yes, and I will be the first one to see you dance…I will be the one who will clap the loudest and cheer you all the way," Santana lovingly patted her best friend's hand. "Let's go to that restaurant we are about to work on."

"Yeah, sure…San," Brittany smiled widely to the brunette as they crossed the road.

"So, you have to work from six in the evening till one in the morning, which will be the standard shift length. You can also work in a four-hour time frame, but with lesser pay, of course," the big, burly man was crossing his arms in front of the girls.

"I'll take the seven-hour job. She'll take the four-hour one," Santana's hand shot up, but she never dared to look at the blonde's eyes.

"Why, Santana?" Brittany's face registered shock as she realized that Santana had just signed them up.

"I don't want you to be stressed out…" Santana smiled.

"No," Brittany furiously grabbed the application form. "Also sign me up for a seven-hour shift," she said firmly.

"I like the both of you," the restaurant-pub manager said from behind them. "Give them what they want," he said to the big burly man.

The man looked at the expectant set of eyes in front of him. "Alright, you're hired. Your shift starts tomorrow. Uniforms will be distributed in the ESD. You, little, brunette…will be a waitress and you skinny, bartending."

Brittany scowled at the comment, but she kept quiet as Brittany ran a calming hand across the tan arm.

"Come on, let's pick up our uniforms."

Santana and Brittany walked over to the Employee's Service Department and took out their uniforms. Brittany shrieked in delight as she found out that the uniforms were pink.

"San, our uniform is pink!" Brittany chittered happily. She turned to her best friend in approval, and Santana only smiled.

Work the next day was a bomb. Santana was never used of the noise and the late-hour work time, but they tried to manage. Pretty soon, the days had made no significance in Santana's life, and she had to work all through the day.

"Hi, how you doing so far?" Brittany said as she plunked an empty tray in front of Santana. "Two shots of vodka, on the rocks."

"So far, so good. You?" Santana gave out a weak smile as she quickly mixed the drinks.

"Good," Brittany grinned and looked towards the dance floor and smiled at her best friend before carrying the tray to the clubgoers. Suddenly, an elderly man tried to grope Brittany's ass.

Faster than lightning, Santana's hand flew towards the man's face.

_She can't let anyone disrespect Brittany like that._

He rose up with bloody nose and looked at Santana cockily. His friends were beside him, as if ready to slaughter the Latina right then and there.

"Pretty face," he said cockily as he stared lecherously at Santana. "Too bad Hawk wouldn't make life easier for her," the man left the bar, although throwing a look towards Santana's way, telling her that he'd be back. And when he comes back, it would not be good.

The night waned on, until the girls' shift was over. They made their way home and climbed up the stairs towards their small apartment they had rented for themselves.

"You shouldn't have done it, San," Brittany started removing her clothes.

"I couldn't allow them to do that, to anyone," Santana reasoned out.

"But, you shouldn't have, still. Do you even have any idea who that man was?" Brittany asked worriedly.

"No, sorry," Santana replied.

"They were Hawk's men. I hear them talking about things. Drugs…stuff, they're dangerous men, Santana. You shouldn't have crossed them."

"Listen, Britt…when something is right and you fight for it, you don't lose in any battle. When it is pure and chaste, you will get it. Don't worry about it, Brittany. Just trust in God," Santana smiled warmly and motioned for the blonde to lie on the bed.

They shared a bed, and it was comfortable for them, well, the apartment wasn't much, but it was enough. They had managed though.

The next day at work, Santana expected the man she had punched to come back and ask for payback. Brittany had feared it too, but it never happened that night. Nor the next night, or the next…or the next.

It had been a week since Santana had last seen the man. It was like the man had already forgotten what happened.

"They never forget, San. They don't forget," Brittany said as she removed her uniform and changed into a more comfortable shirt.

"I don't know. They seemed to forget about it," Santana answered and started to go out to the streets.

"Well, let's just hope they will…" Brittany mumbled. Suddenly, behind her back, there was an angry gurgle of a motorbike, almost running over them.

"Whoa," Santana looked at a few cars in front of her. Then she looked towards her back. More people were there, holding baseball bats. And some others were holding metal pipes.

"We're trapped," Brittany stated calmly. "I told you they wouldn't forget."

"So what do we do?" Santana asked worriedly. Beads of sweat ran across her forehead.

"This way!" Brittany ran into a dark, small alley. "Come on, Santana! Quick!"

They ran through the dark alley, suddenly, someone showed up in front of them, trapping them both.

"There's a gap in the wall! Go, you first. They can't get me. Go!" Brittany ordered Santana to go first, to which the Latina obliged. She crawled into the hole and landed in a dark room. She waited for Brittany to get in. She extended her hand for the blonde to grope on.

"San," Brittany fumbled for Santana's hand in the dark night. Her fingers grazed the Latina's fingers and she held out for Santana's strong hands.

But it was too late. Two, big, burly hands were groping Brittany's legs, throwing her into a set of strong shoulders.

"Santanaaaaaa!" Brittany shrieked. "Help me!"

"Britt?" Santana yelled, after she heard Brittany's cries. "Where are you?" Santana scrambled up to her feet, hoping that she would save her best friend.

"Don't go back," a voice called. "If you want a life," a strong, masculine hand grasped her arm.

"Santana!" Brittany wailed.

"Sack her in. She'll make a good addition," a harsh voice said as a man was holding Brittany.

"Britt!" the brunette shouted for her best friend as she was straddled and set high up on someone else's shoulder.

"San!" Brittany yelled as a canvas sack was covered on her head. "Santana!"

Santana wanted to go, but the hand kept on pinning her. Knowing that she can't do anything, she bit the hand.

"Ow! Puta!" the man winced in pain as Santana bit him.

Santana ran towards the gap again, and saw the tailgates fading into the distance. Brittany was in one of those cars.


	7. Chapter 7

"I told you, it was better to be in here," the same voice called. He was a guy with a mohawk, and he looked almost the same age as Santana. "I'm Noah, by the way…but call me Puck. Nice to meet you, Santana," he stared at Santana's nameplate.

Santana did not answer, but slumped onto the cold concrete and cried. "He…he took her…"

"Listen, Hawk is no killer. He won't kill your friend…"

"She's not my friend…she's my best friend, my sister…" Santana whimpered. Tears kept on falling as she sniffed. She dreaded that she wouldn't see her dear Brittany, ever again.

"Come here," the guy named Puck caught her arm. "He'll be back for you, let's get out of here."

Puck seemed to know this Hawk guy and Santana wanted to be safe. But right now, there is no safe place for her. She looked to the ragged guy's face. He seemed to be concerned, and he did not seem to be that dangerous. Except for his mohawk, although Santana felt that something's off with the guy.

"Come on, before he gets back here and kill us both," Puck impatiently said.

Well, how could she care? Brittany was out there, perhaps alone, her life in danger. She decided that she'd go with Puck.

"Now, I would like you to know that we are not, well, accepted in society that much because they think we are scoundrels…" Puck said as they walked through the dark alley.

They went to a couple of turns before climbing on to an emergency exit ladder. They wound through alleys that are so small that Santana had to squeeze her way into them. And judging by the ambience, Santana could tell this isn't the safest place in the neighbourhood either.

They turned for a bend and went into a service back door of what seemed to be an abandoned building. As soon as they went inside, there were teenagers like her, eating. Puck clapped his hand and a big guy with big hands went up to him.

"Who is this, Puck?" he demanded. He was also around the same age as Puck and Santana, although he was a lot massive-looking than Puck. He was wearing a skimpy shirt that made his chest look like a tent.

"That's not important, Finn." Puck looked at the guy. "Do we still have munchies? We're hungry."

"Please, don't tell me you just made this whore pregnant," Finn wailed. A slap came squarely across his face as Santana infuriatedly spoke.

"I am no whore," Santana's eyes brimmed with tears. She felt insulted by Finn.

"Finn! What the fuck?" Puck exclaimed as he held up two opened cans of pork and beans. He handed one to Santana. "Eat."

Puck then pulled Finn towards a secluded area and started to drag him away before Santana could even utter a single word of thanks to Puck.

A few minutes of Puck and Finn's talk and the mohawked man was back on her side. He looked at her in a funny way and sighed.

"Hawk, he never changes," Puck smiled sadly.

"Who is he?" Santana asked curiously, wanting to know more about her best friend's abductors.

"I worked for them before, gunrunning. Look, I am not saying something bad around here, but you should consider your best friend as dead," Puck said.

"Why?" Santana asked, her fear of losing Brittany surfacing.

"Because, Hawk isn't a good man. He is no killer, but he isn't a good man," Puck said.

Santana grabbed Puck's collar, forgetting everything she had learned from the priests. Brittany's abduction had somehow triggered something in her. As if it had just turned a switch on. A switch that somehow, made her violent.

"What would he do with Brittany?"

"Ship her to someplace in Europe, and let her work as a prostitute till she dies of hunger, or drugs, or dehydration from fucking a man…" Finn said behind them.

"What?" Santana felt her world crumble down.

"She's going to be shipped and sold someplace," Puck replied flatly. "Consider yourself lucky that it wasn't you whom they got. We were Finn and I, we used to be his gunrunners, but we kind of bailed out of their boat. We settled in for snatching and robbery, kind of he pushes us around."

Santana let go of Puck's shirt, then quickly turned towards the door. She ran towards the exit, and out into the road. She's not going to go with all these kids and rob people around.

"Wait, wait!" Finn called as he ran after Santana and caught up with her. "Don't go," Finn said. "Don't try to. Do you want to die? Huh? Hawk will kill you! If he sees you, he's going to skin you alive!"

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Santana blurted out, crying.

"Stay! Stay here and don't ever go to places that you usually go to," Finn said reasonably. He looked at Santana for a little while as the Latina whimpered. "We'll find a way to get her back."

"Go to sleep!" Puck shouted to the younger kids who are in the room. "Everyone go to sleep!" Then he looked at Finn. "Bring her in."

Finn quietly led Santana into another room. "This is a place that helped us get through every day. Now, you can stay here, as long as you like, as long as you cook for us. We are really tired of the canned goods Puck always brings to us."

He looked at Santana's clothes, and then disappeared into the room. He came back shortly with a shirt and pants in his hand. "Wear these."

"Why are you helping me?" Santana asked, just making sure that she hasn't turned on the wrong bend.

"Puck and I, we all know how much it hurts to lose someone, our parents…our friends…we were once happy. And, you remind us both of that happiness. Well, it was good though, but it was years ago," Finn said, his eyes were sincere and warm.

"Puck might not say it, but he cares too," Finn said longingly. Santana had a feeling that these kids weren't bad by choice at all. They just rob people because they needed to. They were forced by hunger to steal.

She stared to Finn with intent eyes. He looked alright, except that he wore a pained look in his eyes. Suddenly, Santana found herself asking.

"What happened?"

Finn smiled sadly. "A year ago, around this time, they took Puck's sister."

"Were you ever able to get her back?"

"Yes, she showed up, a few weeks after," Finn said softly. "Floating in the river, dead."

Santana was dumbfounded. It all came out as a whisper in whispers. "How?"

"She just…I don't know," Finn buried his face in her hands. "It was our fault. If we hadn't left Hawk's turf, Sasha could have still been alive," Finn cried on his palms.

"Finn," Santana rubbed her hands on the big man's back. "It would be better," she cried out, realizing that the same fate could happen to Brittany.

"She was the first girl that ever made me feel…loved," Finn looked at her.

Santana gave out a small smile as Finn looked her way, and she was certain that a brotherly bond had formed between them.

Santana stayed for the night, hoping that she could sleep in the uncomfortable room, but failing to do so because she thought were only disturbed by the screaming Brittany. She laid on the thin mattress, crying and praying to God that He would keep Brittany safe and lead her back to her.

She stayed with Puck and Finn for two weeks, and by the third week of searching, she had no news of Brittany. Finn and Santana were sitting on a table, their backs hunched together, wracking for places where Brittany might be.

Suddenly, Puck burst into the room. "Finn…Santana, I have found her."

"Who?" Santana asked.

"Your best friend. Old man Marley told me we can find her in the wharf."

It took a while for the thought to sink in. Santana's heartbeat stopped.

_Her best friend? Could Hawk have killed her? No, she shouldn't assume the worst. But she can't help thinking about Puck's sister._


	8. Chapter 8

"They are in Pier Azul. They are supposed to leave this morning. Old man Marley told me," Puck said.

A breath escaped from her lips as Santana rose up. "I'm going."

Finn scrambled up to his feet, throwing a quilt aside in the process. "Wait, I'm going with you."

They made their way towards the darkness, avoiding cops as well as gangsters that roamed the harbours, ready to rob people. Finn sat crouching behind a box, and the two other kids were behind him.

"Are you sure it's the one, Puck?" Finn pointed to a freighter printed with Kristol on its side, as he spoke, a puff of white air came out from his mouth.

"Yeah, old man Marley told me that's the boat," Puck whispered, a puff came from his own.

"Ssshh…" Santana said as she pointed to the barge. "They're leaving!"

Panic rushed from her head, to her toe…like a bullet. She sprinted towards the dock, shouting.

"Brittany! Brittany!" she yelled to the top of her lungs. "Brittany!"

A tuff of blonde hair fluttered on the boat's deck. "Santana!" Brittany shouted. She hastily ran down the wooden daimyo to reach her best friend, but no sooner than she made the first step, strong arms wrapped around the frail blonde's body.

"Brittany!" Santana shouted as she ran faster than ever. She was just only a few feet from the boat when a splash was heard, and the boat started to move.

"Santana!" Brittany's shrill voice pierced across the still night air.

"Brittany!" Santana stopped short as she saw the daimyo falling. "Brittany!"

"SANTANA!" Brittany's voice was strangled by a deathly sob.

Suddenly, the man holding Brittany took out a gun from his jacket, and without thinking twice, he shot at Santana.

Santana's legs bucked down, causing her to fall. She felt the stinging pain on her sides, and then she groped her aching side. She fell down, and landed on the cold dock, watching the barge leave, with a wriggling blonde on the deck, wanting to get out of someone's grasp. It was like looking at a bird wanting to be freed.

Finn ran by her side, with Puck following him. Both boys crouched above her as she watched the leaving barge.

"Brittany…" she started to whimper.

_God, why do they have to be this way?_

"It didn't hit her, the cut is just skin-deep, she'll be fine," Finn stated after looking at Santana's side. Santana, in turn, brought up her hand upwards, and saw blood on them. She cried silently as Puck and Finn took turns on carrying her back towards their place.

Finn tried to nurse Santana's wounds and Puck went to actually cook her something. It was an egg soup, although it could have tasted better if Santana was cooking it.

"Eat," Puck held out a bowlful of soup towards Santana.

"No. I'm not hungry," Santana shook her head.

"Go on, Santana. Eat," Finn encouraged her, and took out a spoonful of the soup. He held it out gently to Santana. "Come on."

Santana felt the grumble in her stomach. She had been battling with hunger for so long, but right now, she feels as if it was a lost cause. She slowly opened her mouth and gulped the soup. It wasn't bland, just a little tasteless, but t her tongue, it felt good.

"We wouldn't want you dying," Puck said nonchalantly. "Who would cook for us when you're gone?"

Finn gave him an elbow. "Shut up, Puck. Maybe we should just let Tana eat," he said as he nodded to Santana. "I'll go outside."

Santana nodded in approval.

She smiled sadly at Puck. "Well, it makes the three of us, losing someone."

"I'm sorry, Santana. I know you care a lot about her. I'm sorry," Puck said softly and then he rose up and made his way towards the door.

"Puck, tomorrow…or when I will be able," Santana breathed out. "I would like to go with you to work."

"Are you sure? We're like, thieves…" Puck asked. Santana stared at him with eyes that were like dead stones from hell itself. And she answered with a firm voice.

"Yes, I am."

Puck looked at the same eyes again. When a few days ago they looked worried and in pain, right now Santana's eyes were cold and indifferent. It was as if the life of the world just left the Latina. Instantly, Puck's heart went out for her.

"Fine, if you want to."

A dead smile ghosted on Santana's lips as the two guys left her. She suddenly looked up to the ceiling and remembered what the priests had taught her all these years.

_She had forgotten how she had managed to believe in God. Maybe there was no God after all. Maybe it was just what people say, just to give people hope in this miserable world. Just to provide comfort during the times of battle in a war long lost…_

Santana rolled to her side, tears silently rolling on her tan cheeks.

_What sin did she ever do to deserve this kind of misfortune? Her world was crumbling down. And she can feel the darkness cover her like a thick lead blanket._

The days came and nights ended. Santana had woken up to the same sun each day, knowing that pretty soon, Brittany could see the same ball of light in her eyes, too. If ever she is still alive.

_If ever. If ever she's alive and breathing._

She twiddled the butterfly knife Finn had given her two years ago, it the first time she went robbing with them. Of course, it felt bad at first, but why would she care? But, now…after months of hopelessness and pain…it felt nothing more. Santana could never feel anything anymore…nothing. It was she was numbed already from every feeling in this world.

_She's already dead. And dead girls don't care. Dead girls won't feel anything. Life is pointless._

And just like all the other days and nights since she had got up from that shanty bed when a bullet had hit her, she had found her next target. She had her plan working in her mind already. Her expert mind had been criminally declared as vicious.

A lanky girl who was wearing a grey hoodie had been walking the dimly-lit street as she stalked her. It is clear that the girl is alone and some sort of disoriented on the place where she was. The girl walked by two bystanders who hooted on her ass, causing her to run towards the poorly lighted part of the block.

It was Santana's edge and cue. She hastened her steps to catch up with the young girl. She walked faster than ever. She was actually half-walking, half-running.

She scooted towards the girl, flipping her butterfly knife open, she stepped closer than ever to the girl, and then casually wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulder.

"Give me your bag, your wallet and phone. Don't try shout for help. I got a knife on your side," she said just barely above a whisper but as vicious as ever. She twisted the knife and poked it on the girl's side, letting her know that she has the deadly weapon.

The young girl's face seemed to drain from colour and quickly shoved her bag towards Santana. Then, with one hand, she ordered the girl to drop her phone, wallet and necklace inside the bag.

"Let me…go…" the girl squeaked, the knife was still pointing to her.

"Fine. Stay here, don't move. I got friends hiding and if ever you run before I say so, I won't have to think twice. I will end you," Santana threatened.

She walked backwards, distancing herself from the girl, and then she walked away. Her heels turned into one of the dark alleys that stood up in the dark side of the city.

She peeked into the bag. There were shirts, two phones, a laptop, a tablet and some credit cards and cash in the wallet. Success. Puck and Finn would be happy.

"Not bad, Tana," Finn caught up with her, with an attaché case in his hand.

"Not bad at all," Puck said as he showed up from nowhere. "But let's see you top my quota for today," Puck smiled.

"Shut up, both of you," Santana said coldly. They went into the same old room the tree of them would call as home. Puck and Finn dashed together towards the fridge and took out a can of energy drink each.

"Hudson! Beer!" Santana yelled. Finn grabbed a can of beer and tossed it to the Latina. The tall guy looked at the girl who changed in front of his eyes. He thought at the first time that he saw her.

_She looked so lost two years back._

"Finn…" Puck slung an arm on Finn's shoulder. "She looks so strong. She had been turned into someone like us."

"Seems like she had known how to supress the hurt," Finn smiled sadly.

"Yeah, I can see that," Puck left Finn and walked towards his messy bed. He flopped face-down on the bed. Finn quickly went to his place, too. And pretty soon, Santana stood up to turn off her lights.

As she laid on her bed, she started to think about Brittany. Where she is right now…if she's alive, or if she's lying on the bed too, drifting off to sleep…or was she singing the song she had sung to her years ago in the choir room of San Martin de Paule…

The tune came back as she started to hum the exact words Brittany had sung for her.

_If there's one thing I know I can show you_

_What it means to be free but still hold you…_

_So now the chills are running down my spine_

_And we won't be needing to say goodbye,_

_I'm here to stay so we can say goodnight…_

Santana's eyes gave out and tears were falling from them. And then she remembered how much the blonde girl had cared, how much she wanted to protect her from everything that would hurt her frail heart.

Santana cried silently till her eyes dropped and sleep came…but her dreams were of a blonde…

A blonde that is oceans and miles apart from her…


	9. Chapter 9

**Paris, France**

Brittany knelt down in front of the crucifix, silently praying. Her head was bent low, her body was bending over. It ached from last night, but she had gone through another hideous night in her living hell. And for it, she was thankful.

"Dear Lord, first of all…thank you, for giving me another day. Please, watch over Santana, wherever she is…I know that she is there, safe with you. Please let her know that I love her so much, even if we won't be seeing each other again. Lord, I am so sorry for my sins, today, I would go to confess to Father Jacques. Lord, please, if it won't hurt, please…please let me see Santana again. Please, if it is alright, take me so I can be with her again. I miss her so much," Brittany's mouth moved, but there is no sound that came out from her parched lips. The prayer was the same, for two years, she had been praying that she would see Santana again.

_Even if it has to happen in heaven._

She walked to the confessing area of the church. With a prepared heart, Brittany kneeled in front of the window, which covered with intricately designed curlicues.

Brittany sighed and let out a breath slowly. "Father, please forgive me…for I have sinned…"

She stopped short and drew in a deep breath. After two years, it still hurts like the first time, and admitting it was still as heavy and thick as admitting it two years ago when she first came to France.

"I have committed adultery, I got involved in sexual acts that are prohibited by the church. Father, I perverted men, I tempted them to sinfulness," Brittany said softly.

"Dear child," the priest spoke up. "The Lord sees the truth in your heart," he said. Then the priest gave Brittany her penitence.

She stayed in the church for a few more hours, doing her penitence, and praying as well. She was just talking to the God above her.

She looked at the time, it was already 6:30 in the evening. She has to get going if she doesn't want to get beaten up again by Hawk's men. She had to go to work. She smiled sarcastically to herself, thinking how ironic it was.

She worked as a prostitute, yet here she is, sitting on a bench inside the church, praying that He would be able to forgive her. She believes in it so.

She stood up and made her way back to Hawk's club and she went into the service door. She did not say anything to Hawk's men, she just left them and went to the dressing room. She waited for Brutus to come to her and tell her what she would.

"Blonde, someone is waiting for you, Mr. Ichihara in room number fifteen…he likes to watch, so don't do anything unless you are told to do so. Now go," Brutus said as he tossed Brittany a robe.

Brittany nodded softly, yet dejectedly at Brutus. She stepped out of her clothes, leaving only her white-laced lingerie and draped the robe on her frail body. She is already eighteen, but she did not have a boyfriend, she never did. She never gone out, but she's no longer a virgins. She had gone to bed with men so many times, but she never had someone who loved her.

Except for Santana, whom Brutus had cruelly shot on a dock two years ago. She could never forget how desperately Santana looked on the wooden dock, bloody, reaching out towards her as she was being dragged back to the cabin of the boat.

_She wasn't even there for her funeral._

Brittany's eyes were brimming with tears. Consciously, she pushed the tears away, and she closed her eyes and breathed in. Back to work.

Brittany walked into the brightly lit hall and looked around. She entered room fifteen and saw a Japanese man, fully naked.

"Take of your clothes," he barked.

Brittany followed suit, she felt humiliated, but she had to deal with it. What would she do in this city? Hawk provided her food, shelter and kept her alive, and all that she had to do was to be there each night.

At first, she felt so ashamed, she felt so left dirty about herself. And she hated herself for it. The loathing and the humiliation had come to her as if it was a single blow. But right now, after two years, all that she can feel was the numbness and the aching humiliation.

_Santana is dead. She's sure she is. Brutus had shot her, right? And if Santana is dead, she might as well is dead. There is no point in living life if Santana wasn't there._

She felt the hands on her pelvic area, and a sudden intrusion inside her. A stinging pain that nearly brought her to tears followed. She closed her eyes, and feigned her pleasure, when deep inside she felt like she was tortured, she was dying. She tried hard to detach herself from the reality.

She thought about her time with Santana. How the brunette's eyes shined when she sang for her. How her brown eyes welled up in that night when they were trapped in the woods. She went to recall that time when she used to throw pebbles to the brunette. It was her only comfort at times like these.

After for what seemed like eternal torture, the pumping and all the pushing stopped all of a sudden and she instantaneously stood up.

"Here's your tip," Mr. Ichihara handed her a paper bill, to which she quickly accepted and she went out of the room as soon as Brutus came in.

"Mr. Ichihara…did you have a good time?" Brutus asked. Brittany was already leaving the room, and she never heard the end of the conversation.

Brittany left the room and waited in the empty dressing room. She fished out her rosary and prayed that He would forgive her all over again.

"Lord…forgive me…please, forgive me…" she sobbed.

After an hour, Brutus came inside the room. "Blonde, go to room ten."

It was a short notice. Brittany had to hurry. Even if her bottoms ached, she had to get up. She rounded the bend and went inside the room.

There were three men, all were strip-naked and is waiting for her. She mumbled a small 'sorry' when she came inside. Suddenly, someone grabbed her and threw her to the bed, and straddled her. There was a stinging pain as she was entered by one. It was almost as the same as she had Mr. Ichihara, only a little much extreme.

Brittany drifted back to her trance, her mind absently flying back to the past. Santana was extending her hand towards her, smiling. She was looking at a peacefully smiling Santana, her laughter tearing out through the air. It smelled of summer and they were happy.

_Yes, they were happy._

She saw Santana held out her hand for her. She mentally held it back as the pain slowly made her numb. The pain pulsated across her body in each pump the men had induced in her. She tightly shut her eyes, as if shutting her eyes would shut her consciousness from reality. She reached out to her best friend.

She felt the tan hands and realized that they were cold. She must be losing it, but whatever, she can't wait for Santana to take her to wherever. She was catapulted back to the time where they went firefly catching and holding hands.

_Yes, they held hands…and they were happy._


	10. Chapter 10

The sun seeped in through the dirty, dusty windows. Santana rubbed the sleep form her eyes. She shot up from her messy bed and pulled back her hair. Puck and Finn were already out to work, and that leaves her alone with the dishes.

She rummaged through the kitchen, forking out a sausage as she ran her eyes across the newspaper Puck had left for her. There was nothing significant, except for the news that a lanky girl of eighteen, who turned out to be the daughter of a well-off man, was robbed the previous night.

Santana clicked her tongue. How many times had she made it to the newspaper's headline? Fifteen, twenty, thirty? She couldn't keep track of how many times it was.

Suddenly, as if it was meant for her to look on, she read the filler in:

"…Lopez and Affiliates opens new jewellery store downtown. CEO of Lopez Conglomerate Companies present to cut ribbon…"

She saw a photograph of an elder woman, and even though the newspaper print wasn't helping her in seeing the woman clearly, she could make out that she was Hispanic.

_Well, so much for the news._ Santana thought to herself as she made her way towards the bathroom.

She hated the rich and the famous. When people think about being rich or famous as top in the social pyramid, Santana thinks that it's comical. She completely pushed the news she had read and she just went on about.

After fifteen minutes, she went out of the shower. She quickly dressed in army boots, denim pants that had torn in the sides, a white tank top and a leather jacket. She wore her long, black hair down, giving her a bit of a classy, rugged look. She readily slung her satchel around her shoulders. She went out of the door, carefully locked it and went about the block.

She could rob a bank by herself, but what about the money? She quickly thought of robbing a jewellery store, that would help her and her friends for a long time, but there had to be the heavy vaults to be dealt with.

She saw a sleek, black Camry pulling into a basement parking lot. Seeing the car, it was the latest model. And Santana knew she had a target on sight.

She stalked the car, planning cautiously as she entered a service back door to avoid the security check. She knew she can pick out locks and skip the car alarms using a hairpin only. In robbing cars, Finn and Puck considered her a goddess. She had grown into an expert thief over the months and she had been an essential addition to Puck and Finn's tandem.

An elderly woman emerged from the car. Santana's breath hitched as she realized who the woman was. She had seen that woman before, earlier…earlier this morning.

She was the woman in the newspaper! She's the CEO of that funny, classy name the newspaper wrote about. Santana took a moment to look at the elder woman. She was a brunette Hispanic and in spite of the wrinkles of years on her face, Santana could still see that she was beautiful.

"Leave my bag in there, Alejandro," the elder woman ordered to her driver. "We'll be back in an hour."

"Yes ma'am," the woman's heels clicked into the concrete, followed by the heavy sounds of Alejandro's leather shoes.

So she just got an hour, she needs to make it fast. Well, first things are should be put first. Santana looked around the area. She needed to get those cameras off. Santana reached into her satchel and brought out a couple of small, round mirrors. She strategically placed them in right angles opposite of the cameras, and then she set out a single beam of laser into them, and in turn, reflecting it towards the cameras.

Her purpose was to send a glare as she worked through the cameras. Whilst this won't make an impact to trigger the alarms, this would give her an edge too while she was working. Next would be the car alarms.

Santana crawled underneath the car, and then looked for that certain grey wire. She found it, and with one snap of her pocket pliers, it was cut. Satisfied at what she had done and realized that the coast is clear, Santana dragged herself out front the car's underneath.

She pulled out a hairpin from the pocket of her satchel and inserted it on the car's door, where the keys ought to be. She twiddled it a little, and then she heard a soft click and Santana instantly knew that a gold mine was in her hands reach.

Santana opened the car door hastily and fumbled the elderly woman's bag. She opened it, and a couple of cash and ATMs were there. She quickly loaded them up into her satchel, and then she attacked the glove compartment, snapping of the lock. Then she went to work.

She took hold of an iPhone and she accidentally unlocked it. What met her gaze was a Hispanic couple, holding a little child. She quickly put the phone inside her satchel, disregarding the feeling that she had felt the moment she looked into the Hispanics' eyes.

Alma Lopez fumbled for her phone as she wanted to call her secretary. However, it was only then that she discovered that she had left her phone in the car. She hastily turned to Alejandro.

"Wait for me here, I will just get my phone back in the car," she said. Alejandro gave her a serious look.

"No, ma'am. Let me get it for you," Alejandro replied modestly.

"No, just…just wait up for me and get me the elevator," Alma Lopez said to her driver-slash-bodyguard as she quickly made her way to the basement. She rushed a little, because she had to meet up with her investors in the upper levels of the building.

Alma Lopez stopped short, suddenly there was something about the basement, something about the day, generally that she would

But she was surprised to see someone crouching inside her car.

"What are you doing?" Alma Lopez asked. "You're stealing in my car?"

Santana was caught off-guard, causing her to stand up and hit her head on the car ceiling. She winced at the pain, and she felt a little dizzy.

_Damn! Damn!_

Santana face the elder woman. Suddenly, she looked like someone all too familiar. The elderly woman looked like someone that she has known…long ago.

Alma Lopez looked at the young Latina in front of her. She looked like someone all too familiar…someone she has known…to be dead fifteen years ago. She looked at the young Latina again. She looked a lot like her. She looked a lot like Nina Lopez, but she had a hint of someone else…someone like Martin Lopez, Alma's only child.

Alma felt something contracting in her heart and a little voice seemed to tell her in her mind that this girl in front of her shouldn't be handed down to the cops. So she calmly asked the young Latina.

"Who are you? And what are you doing in my car?"

"My name is Santana and I'm robbing you," the Latina answered viciously. She's mad and infuriated because she was caught. She was hoping that this woman would be intimidated by now. Then she added her usual tag line for added measure as she flipped her black leather jacket's side, showing the hilt of her butterfly knife.

"I got a knife, so don't try to shout for help."

"I am not going to. Why are you stealing from other people? Do you have a lot of sisters and brothers? Where is your family?" Suddenly, Alma felt that this is something…something that means important to her.

"I was raised by priests, who took me in, when my parents were killed. That's what they say. I don't have a family because my only family was taken away from me," Santana swallowed hard.

Suddenly, it was more than enough for Alma. She scooted over to the young Latina. It's not hard to figure out and Santana seemed to fit in to all the requirements.

"Santana," she cried. "Santana, mi princesa…" Alma cried into the young Latina's shoulder. "Abuela missed you…so much."

Santana stood rooted to the ground as she felt the woman's embrace. Well, who the hell would hug her when she just robbed someone? Not to mention that the same person she robbed was also the person that was hugging her at the same time.

"Santana…don't I look familiar to you?" Alma cried out.

"I don't know…a little. You remind me of something…I just can't really recall," Santana shrugged nonchalantly.

"If I wasn't mistaken…you are my granddaughter. Of course, we should let you take a DNA test, but I have a feeling that you are my lost princess."

Alma called Alejandro in a rush using her phone. Then, the next person she called was a geneticist. She quickly turned to Alejandro. "Take her there and don't leave unless you get the results."

Alejandro took Santana's knife and drove into the private office of the geneticist. They were seated, and he took blood samples and hair samples form Santana.

"The results should be declared in three hours," the geneticist said, leaving them to wait. Santana looked as if a bomb had been dropped on her head, and besides, she never cared.

Alejandro sulked in the chair, but he seemed to have kept a special eye on the Latina. Well, who could blame him? Santana was a thief…a master thief at that.

After a good three hour's wait, Alejandro and Santana left the vicinity with the result in a brown envelope. They quickly drove to the building. And this time, Santana didn't have to sneak behind security.

Alma Lopez sat in the office, her hands nervously packed together, her heart thumping. She had just gotten her hopes very high, and she might not like the results. But the feeling she had today…it was definitely something.

Alejandro showed up in the office, with a sulking Santana following him. The satchel was left in the car and she had her hands in her denim's back pocket.

"Ma'am," Alejandro gave the envelope to Alma. Santana drew in a deep breath as she watches the elder woman drew in a deep breath as the envelope rested in the elder woman's hand.

Alma opened it and took out the paper.


	11. Chapter 11

A tight embrace engulfed Santana as Alma Lopez held her tight. Suddenly, tears started to fall from Santana's eyes.

"Oh, mija…" Alma sobbed. "We couldn't find you…mija…"

"Ab-abuela…" Santana drawled on. For the first time in her life, ever since she had lost Brittany, she actually felt happy. And she can't believe it…she had found a family.

A grandmother, in the least.

"Mija…we missed you so much," Alma kissed her granddaughter's forehead as she cradled the young Latina in her arms.

Alma had waited for this moment, and she had believed that she would see her again, and she did. She did not let Santana out of her sight that day and they went home together.

Santana gawked at the size of Alma's penthouse. She gazed around the large den. Then, she remembered Brittany.

_She would've enjoyed this. She would have. She would've gawked at this place as much as I did._

"Mija, are you alright?" Alma Lopez looked at her. Santana gave out a small smile and nodded her head, failing to hide her tearful eyes.

Alma Lopez scooted in front of her and took her hands in hers. "Tell me, mija."

"It's nothing. I-I just remembered someone," Santana pushed Brittany away from her thoughts.

"Well," Alma said softly. "Let's have a new life, alright?" she smiled at the young Latina, who would soon face the fact that she had a multi-billion empire to run and look after.

"Yeah, sure," Santana drawled on as she tentatively raised her eyes towards the elder woman and looked at her. Her eyes were full of misery and hope mixed together.

_Yeah, a life that wouldn't include Puck and Finn, her very best friends and brothers._

"Santana, honey…" Alma said as patiently as she could. "When did you learn how to steal?" She made it sound as a question and as gently as she can muster.

"When I was fourteen, I met this very important person in my life," Santana stated and then looked warily at Alma. "Is…is it okay? If I tell you?"

"Yes, go on. I am your grandmother, you can tell me anything."

"Her name is Brittany. She lived in the orphanage across the convent. At first, we never really got to reasonable terms. But, when she had to be punished and help me in the convent, I got to know her and she wasn't so bad after all."

Santana looked at her grandmother, who was staring at her intently. When she stopped speaking, her grandmother cocked an eyebrow.

"Why did you stop? Go on, I am still listening," the Hispanic woman said o Santana.

"When I was sixteen, she had to leave the orphanage. And I came here, to the city…with her. We had a good life, we both had work in a bar. One night, someone just insulted Brittany and I lost my temper. So, I punched him straight in the face."

Alma gasped at the thought of her granddaughter punching someone else's face. "Mija…"

"I'm sorry, Abuela…it's just that, as much as possible, I really wanted to protect…Brittany…from every harm," Santana's speech started to falter. "But…I failed."

Tears started to fall from Santana's eyes as she spoke her words. Her grandmother abruptly rubbed a comforting hand on her granddaughter's back. She just wanted to stop the breaking of her little girl's heart.

"Mija…"

"Someone…took her away, a week after. I did not know where they took her, but Puck says she'd be shipped to somewhere…I don't know. They chased us. She made me hide in a dark place, where I met Puck, and he saved me. And Finn was there too. Ever since then, I went with them. They're not bad people, Abuela. They just had to steal, to stay alive," Santana's eyes welled up with tears as she rambled on.

"This Puck and Finn, are they older than you?" Alma asked gently, so very gently as if she is in a room full of glasses and a single octave higher, it would all break into pieces.

"No. They're almost the same age as me. They felt like they were my family all this time," Santana said. Suddenly, she thought of an idea to repay her brothers. "Abuela, I know this would be a lot to ask, but…could you take Puck and Finn, as well? I want to repay them for all the good things…they've done. Maybe provide them jobs?"

There was a moment of hesitation. Alma Lopez looked at her granddaughter, knowing that this lady in front of her is something.

_The God above her had given her granddaughter a heart of gold._

Santana's face beamed with expectation. And after realizing that the elder Hispanic hadn't answered her yet, Santana's smile slowly faded.

"Well," Alma started softly. "What can I say?" she chuckled. "Let me see those boys of yours then?"

Santana's face lighted up with beaming happiness. "Really? But, I doubt that they'd be there at this time, Abuela. How about tomorrow morning?" Santana tentatively answered. "Please just don't tell me that you'd bring cops in."

Alma Lopez laughed at Santana's joke. "Let's have dinner then?"

"Sure," Santana gave out a smile and looked at the woman in front of her. "Mind if you tell me what had happened while I was gone, too? And tell me about my parents?"

Alma Lopez nodded. "I wouldn't. Are you up for a long story?"

"I am," Santana smiled again. Alma smiled back. And a bond between them was formed.

They had dinner all by themselves and Santana sat in her grandmother's bedroom, listening to all those stories about her parents, about her life. They felt like family overnight and pretty soon, Santana was actually yawning.

"Let's put you to bed, shall we?" Alma took Santana's hands and led her to a guest room.

"Sorry, I haven't had time to decorate you a proper bedroom. However, I called in to my secretaries and I asked them to furnish you a bedroom back in California," Alma smiled at the gawking Santana.

_She never had the taste of the kind of life that was meant for her. It would be a hard time for her._

"Goodnight, grandma," Santana said as Alma sat by her bed.

"Goodnight, mija."

The lights flicked off and Santana stared out into the stars. A tear fell from her eyes as she thought about her mother and father.

"Mami, Papi, please watch over Brittany," she prayed under her breath. Sleep lulled her into slumber and her eyes closed…

Alma went back to her room and kneeled in front of a crucifix as she made a sign of the cross.

"Lord, thank you for today. Thank you for bringing Santana back," she smiled silently and inwardly. She rose up and turned to the cordless desk phone in her bedside table. She needed to call her lawyers.

"Bartie," she said as a man picked up. "I found her already. I want you to do some paperwork for me so there wouldn't be any hindrances when she gets back to California."

She put the phone back and climbed to her bed. She switched off the lights and floated into a dreamless sleep, knowing that she had done and completed her quest.

The sun woke Santana up. After her quick breakfast and her shower, she was heading her way to the old shack that served as Santana's home for two years. Her grandmother had some works in the office to finish up, and that gave Santana time to prepare her old man's place, in the least it would look presentable to her grandmother.

Santana impatiently knocked on the door and almost kicked it. On the third time, before she could knock, Puck opened the door, her hand almost hitting Puck's mohawk.

"Jesus, Noah! Shave that squirrel out of your head!" Santana ranted as she went about. Finn quickly rose up from his messy bed and looked at Santana.

"San? What's the hurry? You better explain this. You didn't come home last night," Finn said groggily, rubbing his eyes from sleep.

"Listen, I need this place to get cleaned-up," she started putting the dirty clothes into the hamper, tossing them carelessly into the bag. "Noah, sweep the floor. Finn go take the garbage out."

"Why are you so early in cleaning?" Puck raised his eyebrows.

"We're expecting someone. Finn stop laughing, take out the garbage, now. My grandmother's going to visit." Santana tossed an electric razor to Puck. "Use that, Puck."

"Your what?" Finn nearly dropped her eyes on the floor. "I thought you were orphaned."

"I saw her yesterday. We talked, had dinner and I slept in her place. Now, let's get going. And you prepare yourselves. She'd be here in an hour or so."

After an hour of rushed cleaning and putting on their best clothes, Puck, now with his neatly trimmed hair, and Finn sat on the now-clean living room. Suddenly, there were screeching tires below. Finn looked out of the window and turned to them.

"Holy fuck, there's an awesome Camry down there!" he exclaimed.

"That's my grandma. Now, behave yourselves. Noah, that's not cool," Santana went down the stairs to meet Alma. Santana raised her voice a little as she called Puck with his first name.

A few minutes later, Alma Lopez stood at the door, greeting them with a stern face. "Good morning, gentlemen."

"Good morning, Mrs…uhhh," Puck scratched his head.

"Lopez."

"Uhh, good morning Mrs. Lopez," the two boys chorused.


	12. Chapter 12

Santana looked around as she walked beside her grandmother inside the airport. Puck and Finn were following them awkwardly, being not used in the fabric of the suede jackets that they were wearing.

Finn kept on tugging the collar of his long-sleeved undergarment and wailed softly to Puck. "Cripes, this is so itchy."

Puck was in no good shape either. He kept on pulling on his sleeves and looked at Finn desperately. "And do you think I am happy in these clothes either?"

"Noah, stop that," Alma Lopez looked sternly at Puck.

"Sorry, Mrs. Lopez," Puck said as he lowered his head. The woman had intimidated him so much.

Santana eyed Puck as she smiled. Noah had really had the nerves to face her grandmother.

They went through the foyer, and out into the hallway, where they walked on as the people became fewer and fewer, until they are starting to walk outside, towards a waiting private plane.

"Wow, Santana. Your grandma is just so rich; do we get our own pampering, too?" Puck smiled as he sat beside Alejandro. The big man shot him a look of daggers.

"Puck," Santana wailed. "You never change!"

Alma ran a hand across her granddaughter's shoulder. "Well, Noah…you'll have all the pampering in the world, as long as you do things right."

"Abuelita?" Santana's face flushed with utter disbelief. "How could you do that?"

"Might as well tell them what they were supposed to do, mija," Alma chuckled as she lightly grazed her hand on Santana's dark hair. She beckoned the young Latina to scoot beside her, to which Santana happily obliged. She loved cuddling with her grandmother.

"Santana…" Alma said so softly, so softly that it was barely audible. "You have your father's hair…"

"Really? Abuela, I love him so much…"

"I know you did. Do you want to go to sleep? It will be a few hours," the elder Hispanic said to her granddaughter.

Santana did not answer. She just savoured the warmth engulfing her, her grandmother's warmth. She felt her head lighten, and the sounds had started to subside into a hum. Her eyes were softly closing, and she felt happy in the moment.

Puck looked at the two women ahead of them intently. "I never saw Tana so happy, not even when she pulled out that briefcase. Not all these years."

Finn looked at Puck. "Me too. I'm happy for her."

Puck looked at Alejandro. "I bet you haven't seen your lady boss that happy, too. Right?"

Alejandro stared at him squarely. At first, Puck thought Alejandro would ignore him. Then, a small smile crept across his face as he looked at Puck.

"Yeah, Mrs. Lopez never looked that happy. Ever since, I came to work for her. They said, back in the office, and also according to old man Damian, the butler…a part of her died when he lost her husband, but her whole life was chucked out the window when her only son and daughter-in-law were shot to death, and her only granddaughter was lost."

Puck looked at Santana pitifully. "I'm glad she found us, at least…God had provided her two brothers to watch her back."

"That's good thinking, Noah," Alejandro smiled. "Do your job well. You're supposed to be her bodyguards, along with me we're going to guard those women. Mrs. Lopez might seem a little too tight and stern, but she has a heart of gold."

"No wonder where Santana got her attitude," Finn smiled inwardly.

"Yeah, she gets so grumpy and touchy and a perfectionist oftentimes too," Puck chittered on thoughtfully.

"Well, she's the future Empress of the Lopez billion-dollar empire, you better watch her close," Alejandro said.

"Duhh, we know it right," Puck wiggled his eyebrow.

Alejandro gave him a look that made the three men settle comfortably to each other's company. They seemed to have a feeling that they would be good friends.

She woke up, in the middle of the night, and the only light illuminating the whole plane were the lights on the ceiling. She looked at her sleeping Abuela, her arms wrapped around her.

"I love you, Abuela…" Santana leaned back on her grandma's shoulder, and went back to sleep.

When she woke up again, they were already making their final descent on LAX. Santana felt as if her heart could burst. It made her feel excited. Alma looked at her as she sat there, wringing her hands.

"You're happy?" Alma asked as she raised a brow.

"Yes, Abuela," Santana smiled. "Thank you."

They landed safely, and they got off the plane. Puck's grin broke across his face when he saw a black limousine and a sleek black Camry waiting for them.

"Sweet Jesus, Santana!" Finn gasped.

Someone opened the limo for Santana, and let her sit comfortably. She waited for her grandmother, and as she waited she wrung the hem of her sundress.

"Are you excited to see the house?" Alma asked.

"Yes, Grandma," she smiled shyly.

They drove through the city traffic, and out into the suburbs. It was obviously the richer side of the city, because as far as Santana could see, there is no sign of any poor existence or any slums.

They went into a left turn and rounded a fountain. She looked around as they pulled up in front of a stairway leading to a great double-door. An old man, maybe in his late fifties, was wearing a tuxedo and was waiting for them by the stairway. Beside him stood a finely-dressed man, although a little younger, and he was holding a briefcase.

As Santana stepped out of the limousine, she gawked at the sight in front of her. A mansion stood before her. It was bigger than any house she had ever been.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Lopez," the balding man greeted.

"Thank you, Damian," Alma cocked her head sideways towards Santana. "Bartie?" Alma turned to the younger man.

Damian, the butler, acknowledged the young Latina's presence, smiled at her and greeted. However, Bartie, the lawyer cleared his throat and smiled at Santana.

"Welcome home, Miss Lopez," he looked warily at Santana's way. He often wondered how the young child would look, but he was beyond his expectation. Santana wasn't whore-looking girl or a malnourished child.

He would admit that Santana did look alright for a child, who as he heard had roamed in the streets.

Alma led her granddaughter inside, and the young Latina's face seemed to never run out of amazed looks. She quickly led her towards the stairs and made a left turn, her heels making clicking sounds across the hallway.

"Come here, honey," Alma led her towards a chocolate-coloured door. "Open it," she nudged Santana.

Santana hesitated for a moment and looked at her grandmother.

"Go on, Santana."

She pulled the door softly, and entered the room. It was the most sophisticated room she could ever find. The windows had in-built chairs under them, giving her a view of the city downtown and a TV that seemed to accommodate the whole wall. Shelves of books lined one wall and she had a walk-in dresser and her bathroom was as big as the room they had occupied when they were just thieves. Santana opened her closet, and saw rows and rows of coats and dresses she never thought she could even own.

Alma looked at her giddy teenager who smiled and looked up to her with sparkling eyes.

"Do you like it, Santana?" Alma asked, although she knew already the teenagers answer.

Strong, young, tan arms wrapped around the old woman's frame. " Yes, Abuelita! I love it very much."

"I'm glad you like it, Santana," Alma sat on the bed, facing the open door while Santana sat on the opposite side of the bed. "This afternoon, I would like to introduce you to the board."

Santana's smile faded. How could she even face people she hadn't known since the beginning of her lifetime? Not to mention the fact that these weren't just people. These were people of the upper class.

"It will be alright, Santana. You will just watch me hold up a meeting, okay? There's nothing to worry about," Alma groped for the young Latina's hands, and then she saw Damian on the hallway. Alma looked at her wrist watch.

"Oh, it's lunch time already!" Alma rose up and was followed by Santana. They sat for lunch together and by mid-afternoon, Alma and Santana were walking on the carpeted hallway towards the board room of the company's building.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," Alma smiled at everyone's faces. "Well, let's start…how are the sales and the revenues, Mr. Fabray?"

A blonde-haired man, around the age of fifty or something, looked warily across the room. "Well, Mrs. Lopez, our sales had been almost doubling up this month. It must have been the linkages that we have made from every corner of the world."

"Thank you, Mr. Fabray," Alma smiled. The two-hour meeting went on, and in her peripheral view, she could see Santana listening intently to every word the men in the room had said. Finally, after they had discussed every single thing tackled, Alma went up to Santana, who sat warily from the conference table.

"Well, everyone…" Alma said as she took Santana's hand and beckoned her to stand in front of them. "Fifteen years ago, we all know that my son was shot, along with his wife. And with that, my granddaughter was abducted."

She drew in a deep breath and looked at Santana. "But, a few days ago, I met her."

A murmur rose inside the boardroom as Alma let the thought sunk in. The murmur grew louder, as faces brightened and turned hopeful. Then the murmurs softly subsided

"I found her and…today, ladies and gentlemen, let me present to you…Santana Marie Lopez," Alma said, acknowledging her granddaughter.

The whole room was filled with claps and smiles as they welcome Santana. Some women, who had grown very close to Martin, or Alma even cried.

And with that the meeting came adjourned. As people started to leave, Mr. Fabray stayed in the room. He smiled and congratulated Alma.

"I'm real sure Marty is happy right now, Alma. I can tell you that," Mr. Fabray smiled.

"Oh, Rick, he would be so happy with this," Alma smiled and turned to Santana. "Oh, Santana, this is Rick Fabray. He was your father's best friend and your godfather."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Fabray," Santana extended her arm and looked at Mr. Fabray's hazel eyes.

"Please, call me Uncle Rick. You used to call me that," Rick smiled.

"But we are in a board room, sir. Some other place then, that is a little more informal," Santana gave out a small smile.

"I like this kid already, just the same as Marty. Smart and witty as ever," Rick exclaimed. A small blush crept across Santana's cheeks.

"By the way, Rick, how is Quinn doing?" Alma asked.

"Ahh, just good as ever. She'll be in college this fall. How about they go together?"

"Well, that depends, Rick. You know, for old time's sakes, let's have dinner and maybe bring Quinn over, we'll pick her up?" Alma suggested.

"Well, that sounds great!"

That night, the Lopez mansion came alive with laughter and happiness as Rick, Alma, Santana and Quinn sat around the table, enjoying the hearty dinner. The adults talked about business and politics, but Santana sat warily across Quinn.

_How would she talk to this girl? Quinn grew up very rich and who was she? A little thief running in the streets so she can have another meal._

Dinner was over, yet Santana and Quinn hadn't talked yet. When the adults went for tea, Santana sat on the pool edge, dipping her feet until her knee in the cold water. This seemed to help her relax, along with thinking about Brittany.

Suddenly, Quinn popped form the door, almost startling the Latina. The look on Santana's face was comical, but Quinn did not laugh. She quietly hung her head down.

"S-sorry," Quinn said, barely above a whisper.

"It's alright, sorry," Santana smiled as Quinn looked up. And then the blonde girl smiled.

_A friendship was formed._


	13. Chapter 13

**five years later**

Puck stepped inside Santana's office, and he walked in on a familiar sight. Santana Lopez was staring out into the dark night, as usual.

"Tana, it's time to go home," Puck said softly. As usual, he guessed Santana was crying again. And Noah Puckerman never misses a guess. For five years, Santana was like an open book to Puckerman. He never misses a beat, although he knew Finn could notice it, too. But Finn never said anything.

Santana never fails to hide her pain from anyone but Finn and Puck, even if it had been a good seven years since Brittany was kidnapped. To Noah Puckerman, Santana is still the broken girl they have met years before.

Santana softly dabbed her tears as she turned from Puck and smiled sadly at her friend. "Hi."

"Tana, it's time to go home," he said softly.

"Where's Finn? Is he with Abuela?"

"Yeah, they are expecting you to make it to dinner," Puck smiled, albeit softly.

Santana nodded and looked at the time. "Then, maybe we should leave now. Let me talk to Quinn, just give me a minute. Wait for me in the basement, Puck."

She walked out of the office and towards an adjacent office which serve as Quinn's. She was Santana's assistant.

"Quinn, I'm going to go home," she said casually. She knew Quinn wouldn't budge and she'll just stay at the office after all.

"Okay, I'll just finish this up," Quinn said as she smiled at Santana. "I don't want to leave these things unfinished."

Santana let out a snort. Quinn never changed, no matter how she tries to knock some sense in Quinn's head. Quinn was a stubborn lady, and a workaholic at that, yet Santana never complained.

They drove across the rain as it heavily fell on the windshield and on the pavements. Puck was listening to some music and he was unusually silent.

"You're dating that guy from Ohio?" Puck stared coldly at her in the rear view mirror. "Who was he?"

"Sebastian," Santana said softly, wary of Puck's ice-cold stare at her.

"Mhmm…" Puck said with a curt nod. "You seem…kind of, unhappy."

"Do I? I'm happy, Puck," Santana retorted. She doesn't like it when Puck tells her these things, because these things were true.

"I don't see it…that spark, that glow, that you ought to have. If you're not happy Santana, there is no need to force it and chuck it in forcefully," Puck said timidly as he caught the Latina's stare again.

"Have you gotten any whereabouts about her?" Santana tried to avoid the topic. As much as she had been hurting, she does want to end her pain and internal suffering, but she doesn't want to talk about it.

"I haven't heard anything, back at the old place. I was following up with Interpol's death list, nothing came up," Puck said, hoping that he hasn't tripped on one of Santana's ever-ticking time bombs when it came to the topic that is Brittany.

"Because she's not dead, Puckerman!" Santana yelled. "She's not dead!"

"Geez, Miss Lopez," Puck wailed out. Santana looked grumpily as she stomped out of the car the moment it came to a halt in front of the Lopez mansion.

"I am not dealing with this crap!" Santana ranted on as she made her way to the dining room. As she was nearing the table, she heard Finn and Alma talking.

"The Interpol couldn't find anything of this man," Finn said.

"Do you have any idea where Brittany might be?" Alma said worriedly. Her wheelchair was beside Finn's chair.

"I have a faint one, and that's in Europe. Although, I am not sure, Mrs. Lopez," Finn half-whispered.

"How did you know that?" Alma said.

"It's the black market for human trafficking. Best place for Hawk to sell Brittany. But it had happened seven years ago, ma'am. There's no one waiting for Santana. I'm so sorry," Finn lowered his head.

"There's someone waiting for me!" Santana thundered. "Abuela! Don't believe in him! Please, Brittany is still alive."

"I did not say that she's dead," Finn replied patiently.

"Well, you made it sound like she doesn't have a chance!" Santana said before she turned back. "I'm going out. Forget about dinner."

Santana stormed out of the house, her heels clicking on the floor as she climbed into her car and pulled out to the road.

"Sebastian, where are you?" she almost yelled on her phone as she made a sharp left turn towards downtown.

"I'm in a meeting, Santana. Please don't yell," Sebastian said begrudgingly on the other line.

"Ugh, fine! I'm not even interested on the shit that you do!"

She continued on driving until she had reached the local bar and she pulled up in the parking lot. She quickly got inside the club and went up to the bar.

"Just tab it," she grumbled as she handed her credit card. She had been spending nights in various bars, lately, and she usually ends up in another bed, and too drunk to give a care in the world.

Tonight was no exception.

He was looking her way when Santana had her first shot of tequila, so she smiled seductively at him. He was wearing a black leather jacket and his face had been looking fresh, ever since he was sitting on the far side of the room.

_Well, she's dead already, why would she care? She died when Brittany was taken from her._

She weaved her way towards the man, casually shaking her hips to the beat of the music. "Hi," she played innocently, yet devilish.

"Hi," a short reply came but his eyes travelled towards the cleavage of Santana's blouse.

"So, why are you partying alone?" her voice was dark and low.

"Why are you?" the man replied with a devilish smirk.

"Well, I was, a few minutes ago, but…" she started to run her fingers on the man's collar. "What's your name?"

"Warren," the man said. He's far too gone and he sat there, mesmerized by Santana's dark, lustful eyes.

_If Sebastian wouldn't sleep with her, she might as well sleep with other men._

"Oh, well…my place?" the man smiled as he got the hang of what Santana was saying.

"Sure thing…" Santana gave out a sly smirk as they both stood up and made for the door.

_But in the back of her mind, Santana was sure a voice told her to stop doing it._

"Listen, I don't' want any commitments, I think you ought to know that," Warren said as he sat behind Santana's steering wheel.

"Do I look like someone who wants a commitment?" Santana asked as she groped the man's pants and unzipped it.

"Oh, wow…" he said as they drove through the night air and into Warren's apartment.

Santana sat on the edge of the bed and Warren was standing in front of her. "You were, kind of fast," he remarked as Santana slid down her clothing.

"I am," she replied softly, albeit her voice was full of lust.

"And you're very sexy," Warren said as she slid her top finally, revealing a perky set of perfectly rounded tits.

"I was hoping you'd notice," Santana smiled as Warren attacked her fully on the lips.

Santana woke up; the moon was shining on her slick body. It was a cold night, but she felt colder inside. She groped for the sheets as she fumbled for her clothes as well. She felt Warren's body close to her as she did so and then she looked over the man that had been to bed with her.

_How could she disgrace herself like that?_

_Maybe it wasn't a disgrace. It's not a disgrace. She's dead, and why would she care about it?_

Santana had left Warren's apartment, flustered and frustrated and all that she could think was _her_. Her happy, beautiful blonde. Santana passed by a church, and she remembered God.

_Please take me away, Lord. Take me away and I will be happy._

She pulled up of her driveway and she went inside the house. To her great surprise, Sebastian was waiting for her in the den.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone was a little hot and angered.

"What are you doing outside so late?" Sebastian replied with calm anger.

"It's none of your business," Santana waved a dismissing hand to tell Sebastian he had to go.

"It is, if you were really my girlfriend," Sebastian half-shouted.

"So, this is how you play it?"

"Santana, I know you sleep around with guys, but please, don't try to insult my masculinity with that," Sebastian said.

"Insulted or not, don't dictate my life. Get out of my house, and get out of my life!" she yelled into the Sebastian's face. The brown-haired man quickly retreated, knowing that he'd better leave if he wanted to see the light of day tomorrow.

She was left alone in the den. And as she poured herself a glass of bourbon, Puck knocked on the door.

"Puck," she said softly.

"Santana, enough of that," Puck took the glass from her. "You have been drinking the night away and you still drink here? It's three in the morning and you smell like sex, so please, do pass out or sleep."

"Puck…look at me, I'm a mess…why can't I just die," Santana sobbed.

"Look at me, Tana…look at me," Puck cradled the Latina in his arms. "You have to live here…"

"I just miss her so much, Puck…I fucking miss her…"

"Shh…Tana, please…stop crying…" Puck felt the pain Santana had been feeling since Brittany was gone. It hurts him so to find Santana being like this. "Let's get you to bed."

He carried Santana to her bedroom and gave her a change of clothes. The Latina had fallen to sleep as he was putting all the dirty clothes in the hamper. Puck stood there, and walked towards the Latina till he sat on the bed.

"Good night, Tana. Sweet dreams," he softly said as Santana breathed. The pain was still there, and he knows it.

_Because, just like Santana, he had lost someone, too._


	14. Chapter 14

Brittany was almost asleep when she heard a loud bang on her door. She was dreaming already, dreaming of a familiar brunette.

_It was Santana._

Brittany's lips curved into a small smile. Her best friend's memory never fails to make her do just those small little smiles that reminds her that she still has a lot to thank for. Santana smelled of flowers and laundry detergent, the kind of what they smell like when they were in the convent back then. It was beautiful. They were innocent, pure, and happy.

There was the bang on the door again, this time, it was more impatient. It's not Santana. Because in the back of Brittany's mind, she believes that Santana is dead.

_She dreaded of what was behind that door._

She slowly rose up, her whole body shuddering form the ache form her work last night. She slowly unlatched the door and the moment she opened it, Brutus was pouncing on her.

She cried. Yes, she did. She cried too many tears. And he stinging pain between her legs was excruciating. She had been praying to God that this would end.

_But it seems like God was too busy for her right now…_

Santana looked out beyond the glistening California sun as the new intern brought her coffee. He had blonde hair, athletic built and he carefully put his boss' coffee on a table.

"Hi," Santana said warmly. The intern shot his head up, quickly making a scared gesture. Everyone in the building knew how much of a hothead Santana is, and they never wanted to cross the brunette's way.

_Some even say she's thrice worse than Alma Lopez._

"Ma'am…your coffee," the intern smiled.

"Thank you, I didn't catch your name?" Santana said suggestively.

"Sam Evans, ma'am…"

"Oh, are you free tonight?" Santana inched her way incredibly close.

_Well, she can either live like she's dead or live like she never cared. She could bang every man and she still wouldn't give a damn about it._

"Y-yes ma'am…"

"Call me Tana…or Santana. I like you," Santana smiled lustfully.

Puck watched the whole conversation from outside. He was sitting on a chair beside Finn and his girlfriend Rachel.

"She's changed so much."

"It's not that she had changed, Finn. She's just desperate. Any updates on Brittany?" Puck shrugged.

"Not that much, actually," Finn replied.

"I hear she lived in a convent before, but she acts like a whore," Rachel yapped.

"Shut up, Rachel. Santana is just hurt. She's just desperate to find her best friend," Puck reasoned out.

"Duh, if she really cared for her best friend, she must talk to her," Rachel rolled her eyes.

"She's been looking for her for almost seven years so don't try to judge her like you have been in her shoes!" Puck almost yelled before going out of the room.

"Rachel, you shouldn't have said that," Finn said begrudgingly.

"I don't see why you're always in her side! I know she gave you both a job and you were brought up under her wing, but please Finn, she's a dirty little slut that fucks every guy she can ever lay her eyes on, save for you and Puck, for any reason that I don't know," Rachel ranted.

"She did not give us just jobs and food and shelter, Rachel. You know what she gave us? A friend, a family. It's something worthwhile, Rachel," Finn said quietly as he quickly left the room.

Rachel was left in the room, alone and frustrated. Santana was a total bitch, yet Finn and Puck and that blonde named Quinn always stood up for her worse-than-evil boss. It made her think that it had some reasons or another, although she would definitely never know.

Rachel left home earlier than the usual that day.

Finn and Santana were driving through the heavy traffic that night. Puck had to run for some errands for Alma Lopez, who is now staying home and is sick with old age.

"Santana?" Finn mumbled warily, knowing that he might or might not set off Santana's ever-ticking nuclear bomb.

"Yes?"

"Are you hitting on Sam Evans?"

"If I say yes? Why?"

"Because, he's…Rachel's…brother-in-law," Finn eyed Santana softly. Her features turned from calm, to hurt, then back to a stone-cold face.

A dreaded silence hung above them.

"Finn," Santana said quietly.

"Yeah?" Finn prepared himself. He knew what was coming after he would hear Santana speak again.

"Can a person love someone else too much?"

"It's not your fault Santana," Finn said quietly. Over the years, he kept hearing the same reasons over and over again and it made him sick that neither he nor Puck could make it alright.

_If only he could find her sooner._

"You know, Finn…" Santana was half-smiling though the window. "She tried to save me."

Finn looked worriedly at Santana.

_She's insane._

"She was so happy. We were so happy. I just wanted to protect her," Santana looked out to the blinking lights of the city streets. "She would die for a car ride, you know. I wish she's here."

"Santana, maybe you could use a drink," Finn said suggestively.

"Maybe," she replied. Alcohol and work seemed to be Santana's best friends, since Brittany had been kidnapped.

Finn pulled up in front of a bar and looked for seats as he let Santana wander out to the dance floor. Finally, he was bringing a glass of brandy towards Santana.

"Thanks, Finn."

"No problem, boss," Finn downed a bottle of beer as Santana swigged her brandy. Pretty soon her vision became all hazy and all she could feel was Finn carrying her towards the car.

The next thing that came to her was the California sun kissing her tan cheeks. Santana slowly got up and managed to reach the bathroom before throwing up.

"Santana," Puck was in the doorway before she knew it. And before she knew it too, Santana was being helped up by Puck as she got into tub of warm, scented water. Puck brought her coffee and muffins later.

"You don't have to go to work today," Puck said softly.

"But, I have a meeting!" Santana sat up on her bed, wincing at the aching in her head.

"Hey, hey," Puck managed to pin her down to the bed. "Keep calm, okay? Your Abuela cancelled the meeting."

"But they were Frenchmen! How am I supposed to deal with them?" Santana almost begged.

"We'll get that meeting," Puck assured her. "Get some rest."

Puck left for the door, but he stood for a little while and looked at Santana.

"Rest, you have Frenchmen to deal with, tomorrow. We're taking a flight to Paris."


	15. Chapter 15

Santana looked over the rainy clouds and sighed. Her Abuela had been supervising the business in the United States as she was overseeing the deals in Europe. She looked around and watched Puck solemnly fall asleep on his seat.

"Hi," Finn smiled at her softly.

"Hi, Finn."

"You know, Santana…" he sat beside her. "Since we're going to Paris, I just want you to have a good time. I mean, it's not just about the deals or business. I just want you to be carefree."

"Finn, it's hard to find something, especially if you did not know how you lost it," Santana warily looked out to the distance.

Silence.

Finn sighed as he traced his finger along the hand rest of the plane seat. "We'll find her. Trust me, we will find her."

_He's not sure if he was convincing Santana or himself._

The plane started to descend and it was just a matter of time before Santana was walking towards a waiting limousine, with Finn and Puck beside her.

The overcast, nimbus-clouded sky made the Paris streets morph into a scary colour of grey hues as they drove through the busy, rainy, slick streets of Paris. Santana kept on staring at the city streets and the traffic in the roads turned from bad to drastic.

Santana suddenly shifted her glance to Finn and looked at Puck with such urgency plastered on her face that Puck had to look at her.

"Finn, stop the car!" Santana yelled, although she's just behind Finn.

Finn stepped hard on the brakes and due to the abrupt shift in momentum, it made Puck lunge forward and hit his head on the backrest of the chair.

Before it could even register on both men's minds, Santana was already running through the bantering rain across the street. She was chasing a man in a leather jacket.

"Mister! Mister! Monsieur!" Santana yelled as she weaved and ducked through a bunch of pedestrians. After a few minutes of running around, she managed to grope the man's shoulders. Clutching her dress with her left hand, she tried to dodge the mob.

_It was not him. It wasn't the man who took Brittany._

It was only then that Santana realized she was soaking wet form the rain. Puck had already had an umbrella above her and she was freezing as they went back to the car.

"Come on, let's get you to the hotel," Finn mumbled as he wheeled away.

And in a dark, deserted alley, a big, burly man stood and waited for his phone call to be picked up.

"What? Brutus, I'm fucking Brittany, now what the fuck do you want?"

"Hawk, she's alive."

"She's alive? Who?"

"Brittany's best friend. That bitch I shot a few years back," Brutus said.

"Really? You have seen her?"

"Yeah, she got bodyguards. I got a good look at her face. She's chasin' me off like I'm some criminal," Brutus said off-handily.

"You sure it's her?"

"I don't know."

"I think you're just being delusional. Come back here," Hawk said as he disconnected the phone after it.

Brutus was left looking at the phone, with an inner debate that raged inside him. Finally, he just believed in Hawk.

_Maybe he was just imagining that he's seeing Brittany's best friend…_

Finn walked back and forth as Santana sat on the couch. He was royally exasperated. And he had his hands on his temples. In his years, Santana had always seemed to drop numerous bombs on him, but this time, this seemed to be the last straw.

"Look, Santana, are you sure it was the guy who shot you?" Finn asked.

"I'm pretty sure! She might know where Brittany is!" Santana answered back.

"You're insane, Santana," Puck said worriedly.

"Why can't you just believe me?" Santana talked back to the two men before her.

"Look, that's seven years ago, what makes you so sure?" Finn said in his most patient way.

"Because I know. Come on, Finn…"

"Santana…"

"Look, I don't how the two of you say it, but if I have to turn up every pebble, every French pocket to find that man, I will do it. It's my money, so I am going to spend it in any way I want. Call me insane, call me delusional, I don't care. I'm going to find her." Santana quipped as she walked out of the room.

"Fine, Puck, call the Paris police or any fucking private investigators," Finn ordered quietly, to which Puck willingly complied.

Two Chinese-looking detectives wearing leather jackets walked into the large den of Santana's suite. They were wearing identical hoods, although the female detective looked like a bombshell that did not give Puck an impression to be formal.

"Good evening," the Asian man said. "Inspector Mike Chang," he showed his badge. "And this is my wife, Tina."

"Please, take a seat," Puck said cordially, although his smirk was a little crooked. "I will just call her. She's still in a meeting, I think."

The two detectives nodded in agreement.

Puck went into another room and walked in Santana and Quinn who were busily talking over inventories. Quinn had flown with them in Paris, in accordance to Puck's request.

Santana had agreed to it, and to be honest, the blonde was a handy. She had been going steady with Puck, so there's really no problem to it.

"So the stock market could finally ease out…" Santana was bending over a sheet of paper. Her voice was cold and authoritative, not trace of emotion, just pure hunger for her business venture.

"Stocks are getting higher, Santana…"

A knock came from the open door. "Santana, they're here."

Santana seated herself in a separate seat and the Changs settled comfortably on a couch. Santana asked for coffee and they sat there as cups were placed in front of them and as they did so, Mike started to talk.

"So, what exactly do you want us for?"

"I want you to look for a certain man," Santana said nonchalantly.

"Okay, do we have a photograph of that certain man, or…anything?"

"No," Santana said flatly, although, there was a tone of desperateness in her voice.

"Can't we do a cartographic sketch…or anything?" Puck intervened.

"Well, we can, but it would be very hard," Mike said flatly.

"Listen, I can give you any amount of money, just say it. As long as you will search for that man," Santana said, her tone as if she was dealing something.

"We need a cartographic sketcher," Finn said softly. Then he averted his eyes on Puck. "Do you know anyone?"

"How the hell would I know someone here in Paris. You might know some," Puck grumbled as he looked at Mike.

"I know one. He works with us," Mike declared as he gazed solidly on the marble floor.

"Then get him," Santana ordered. "I need to find that man, even if it costs me half of my properties."

_When I find him, I'll find Brittany._

After a few more arrangements, the two detectives left the suite. Santana also left the room. The only ones that were left were Finn, Quinn and Puck.

"Sometimes, if she's not only my boss, I would've thought that she's insane," Quinn said softly as she sipped from her cup of coffee.

"This whole thing, I don't know. Maybe Santana just loved Brittany so much," Puck said.

"She hasn't changed anything, she is still that desperate girl," Finn clicked his tongue.

"I feel so sorry for her," Quinn sighed and Puck laid a comforting hand on her own.

Suddenly, Santana came into the room, dressed in a leather jacket with a tank top underneath, high-heeled stiletto, and skinny jeans. "Hi, y'all," she smiled softly.

"Hi," the three people chorused.

"Where are you going?" Puck asked.

"Just for a drink," she went past them and out of the door.

The day had been exhausting. She got the deal from the Frenchmen, she had her business venture flying sky-high, but that did not diminish her sadness, yet she was also hoping. She's kind of frustrated, though. Questions and what ifs ran back and forth in her head.

_What if Brittany is actually dead?_

_What if she's alive, but had forgotten her?_

Santana hailed a cab to take her downtown and she got off in front of the very first bar she could see. There were people milling about, mostly men. And these men drawled on her sexy figure as she walked inside the bar.

More eyes were lid upon her, especially her ass as she walked towards the bar.

"Vodka," she said as she handed her credit card to the bartender, who kindly smiled at her.

"Your place or my place?" a man asked beside her.

"What?" Santana blurted out, and then she got it and smiled seductively at the man beside her. "Well, maybe after a few more drinks. Yours."

"Good," the man nodded and smiled at her, then grazed a hand on her cheek. "What's your name?"

"Santana. You?"

"Rick," the man smiled. "You're beautiful. You've got a beautiful name, too."

What bothered Santana was she felt as if she was burned. It was as if someone had been watching her. She's just not sure. Maybe it was the vodka and stress thrown together.

She looked at the man sitting beside her. He's not bad-looking. Actually, he was good-looking. He could pass up for a model or something, some sort of a hunk or an athletic one.

The man smiled up to someone who seemed to be behind her. "Armand," he nodded, regarding someone else.

She turned her head and she saw the man whom Rick had been smiling at. But her eyes quickly averted to the blonde girl beside him and her eyes bulged in shock and the view across the club seemed to send her heart into a series of explosion.

Her feet quickly made a path of their own towards the place where the girl and Armand were sitting. The blonde had seen her already and the girl furiously shook her head as if saying "no". But Santana lead on, as if she and the girl were the only ones in the room.

She stood in front of the girl and took her hand. Suddenly, Santana couldn't find her voice, suddenly, she had forgotten everything, even her excitement of having sex with Rick later. All that matters to her is now.

Finally, she found her voice, or her voice found her and all she could say was one word.

"Brittany," she said softly as tears began to pool out of her eyes and she made an effort to hold them back.


	16. Chapter 16

"Hey," Armand quipped Santana aside as he threw her and angry look. "I paid for her already."

Brittany held her head in shame.

"How much did you pay for her?" Santana demanded.

"Five hundred dollars," Armand said.

"I'll triple it. A thousand and five hundred dollars," Santana said. Someone from behind came up and looked at them.

"What the hell is going on here?" the man asked.

"I want to buy her from him," Santana said flatly as she turned to the man.

"No," the man said. "He had paid for it. Besides, Hawk owns that girl. Whatever transaction you want to have, it must go through me," he said. Then he turned to Brittany. "Go to the room and wait."

An evil chuckle escaped from Armand's lips. "Do you think I would give it up to you that easy?"

"Three hundred thousand dollars. For the both of you," Santana raised her eyebrows cockily. "Take it or leave it."

"Fine," Armand said. "I'm a good man and I don't do bad deals. Especially when money's talking."

"Our room is number sixteen. Through that back door over there. Good night," the man said and walked away with his check, acting as if nothing had happened.

Santana filled up two checks, each of them worth three hundred thousand dollars.

Santana walked towards the back service door and looked behind her. No one was watching, except for Armand who winked at her.

"So long, horny lesbian," he yelled.

Santana gave out a crooked smile to Armand as she hurried towards the room. Her heart had been thumping on her chest and all she can think about was hugging her best friend. On her second thoughts, she called Puck. He answered on the first ring.

"Puck, I need you to track this call. Have you tracked me via GPS?"

"Yeah, what now?"

"Drive down here, and make it fast. I'm in a club. Now, don't pull up by the parking lot, instead, park at the end of the alley right next to it. Left side. And be ready."

"Yeah. Got it," Puck agreed, although he had no idea what Santana is up to.

Santana closed her phone and she continued her walk towards the sixteenth door.

_Brittany is waiting for her._

Santana unlatched the door and went inside, but what lay before her totally caught her off-guard.

Brittany laid on the bed, naked, with nothing…not even a single stray piece of cloth covering her body.

Santana scrambled up to the bed and flung the blanket on Brittany's bare body. It was only then that Santana had taken a real good look at the blonde's face.

There were dark circles under her eyes, and they were a little puffy.

_Was she crying?_

A faint bluish-purple was just below her ear and when Santana touched it, the blonde girl in front of her seemed to squirm in pain.

"Brittany, Britt…come on, let's get out of here," Santana said softly. But Brittany did not listen. She was sobbing quietly, shaking her head.

"Santana…" her voice was frail and weak. And it did not fail to make the Latina crumble down.

"Shh…let's get out of here…"

"Santana, I'm…I'm sorry…I had to do this…"

"Don't be, I understand. Let's get out of here, we'll be safe. I…I got a job. We're rich, I saved up for you…for us. You want to go to places you've never been…I will take you there. You don't have to do this anymore, just come with me," Santana rambled on as the tears she had held back in the club fell freely on their own accord.

"Let me get you a robe…do you have your clothes?"

Brittany shook her head. Santana scrambled to a nearby closet and flung it open. There were bath robes and a few towels. She pulled one of the robes and tossed it on the bed.

"Get dressed. We don't have much time," Santana started to tie the towels and bed sheets together. She did it so quickly and rapidly that she was so immersed in her act and she hadn't noticed Brittany's melancholic face.

"I can't go with you, Santana."

Brittany's words were so quiet that Santana stopped from what she was doing. She looked up at the teary-eyed blonde and her brows knitted in confusion.

"Why not?"

"I don't have the right to," Brittany stated, her tears falling from her cheeks, washing away the mascara.

"Shh…I'm here, I have looked for you for seven years…and guess what? You're worth it, so come with me."

"I'm sinful, dirty…I'm a whore, Santana," Brittany bent her head down in shame.

"I don't care," Santana quipped and went towards the window. She looked both sides but there seemed to be no one around. And a car was waiting for her in the end of the alley, as she had expected, Puck was leaning on the passenger's seat, staring intently at a street lamp.

"Get dressed," she ordered as Brittany just sat on the edge of the bed.

"But…" she was cut off by Santana and the Latina gestured her to raise her arms up. Santana further saw more bluish-purple spots that pockmarked her best friend's body.

"God, Brittany have you been beaten up?" Santana looked at the frail figure in front of her.

Brittany could only nod. Santana continued dressing the blonde up as warmly as she could. Then the rope made from towels flew outside the window. Pretty soon, they were ready.

"Come on, up you go," Santana helped Brittany outside the window and made her slide down towards the escape ladder. "I'm right behind you."

Brittany's bare feet touched the cold concrete below, and then a loud click as Santana's stilettos hit the road. Quickly, they made their way to the waiting car.

"Who is she?" Puck and Finn asked her as she got in the backseat of the Focus.

"Gentlemen, it's Brittany. My best friend," Santana said.

"I see," Puck said and smiled. "I'm glad you found her."

Santana warily looked behind them. No one is following. "Puck, call the Paris police. Tell them to raid the club we left. Tell them anything. There's a sex den out there. It's a whorehouse."

Puck quickly obliged. "Happy to do so, Tana," he said with a smile.

"Me too," Finn smiled widely as he put the car to ignition. They rode in silence and Santana felt her head morph lightly. Then she yawned as she looked at the digital clock on the dashboard. It's already 1:58 in the morning.

Brittany's tears were slowly rolling from her cheeks and Santana noticed them. It was as if the blonde's face has only registered emotion right now.

"Britt, why are you crying?" Santana cooed.

"I just…I just thought I would never see you again," Brittany said, and then hugged Santana, burying her face in the crook of the brunette's neck. "After everything, I thought I deserved to die. I thought you died…I thought…after all that I had been through. After Hawk took me on that boat, where Brutus had shot you, I thought you died there. He brought me here to Paris…and now…you're here…"

"I love you, I wouldn't leave you, and when you're gone, I'm going to find you…" Santana smiled as she felt her heart contract. Feeling the blonde back in her arms was something she could just wish…and hope for. But now, that wish is becoming a reality.

Or was this a reality?

Santana sprung up and slapped herself squarely in the face.

"What'd you do that for?" Puck asked curiously.

"I'm not dreaming, am I?" Santana asked, more to herself.

"No you're not. I think she is already dreaming," Finn answered as he looked at Brittany form the rear view mirror. A police car flashed on the opposite line. It was followed by two more. And then another two.

Brittany sat slumped on the backseat, her head leaning on the glass and softly snoring. Her face looked so pale, yet peaceful.

"Hey, baby…" Santana eased herself. "Come, lean on my shoulder, Britt," she helped the blonde up and laid the blonde's head on her shoulder.

"Goodnight, Britt…"

Brittany grunted as a response, causing the Latina's mouth to curve into a smile.

Finn parked the car to the basement and the four of them made their way to the elevator. Puck had to carry Brittany in his arms as Finn opened the elevator door for them. When they came in Santana's suite, Quinn had already made coffee for them and was waiting for them in the den.

Finn laid Brittany on Santana's very own bed and went back to the den for his coffee. During the whole time he spent on bringing Brittany up the bedroom, Santana had gulped her first cup down. She was starting on her third cup when Puck cut her off and Finn had walked in.

"Hey, easy on the caffeine," he smirked.

"I've got calls to make," Santana smiled as she excused herself, bringing her cup to her study.

_It was a loosened, happy smile that Puck had never seen before._


	17. Chapter 17

Santana waited for her grandmother to pick up her call. On the fifth ring, she was finally able to talk to her Abuela.

"Dios mio, Santana! What on earth are you thinki-"

"Abuela!" she beamed excitedly. "Abuela! I found her! I found her! I need a passport for her, a clearance, an immigrant visa…everything. I want her to live with us, Abuela," Santana rambled on the phone.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Santana? Are you alright? Who did you find?"

"I found Brittany, Abuela."

There was silence on the other line.

"Abuela?"

"My God, is that so? Are you sure it's her?"

"Of course, Abuela. I know it's her," then Santana stopped short. How could she tell to her Abuela what Brittany really is? Anyways, she'd have to deal with it, later.

"Good," Alma Lopez said with a satisfied tone. Then there was a beep, the call was ended.

Santana put down the receiver and looked at the frail sleeping body on her bed. Her hand ran trails on the golden hair that was stiff from cheap hair spray and the city dust. She had more things to do.

It would be a matter of time for Hawk's men to find out that Brittany's gone and Santana's instincts tell her that it wouldn't be a good thing if they stay in Paris. But the Paris police will take care of them.

_Just to be sure if one of them dares to follow and chase them around._ She thought.

"Finn," Santana called.

"Yeah?" Finn responded groggily. He had fallen asleep on the couch.

"Finn, contact the plane company. Tell them to send a plane in two hours. We're going to Spain. Where's Puck?"

"Asleep in Quinn's room," Finn replied as his hands were pressing on phone numbers.

Santana almost ran to Quinn's room. "Puck!"

"What? Jesus, Santana! It's almost three in the morning," Puck exclaimed.

"Noah, call the French secretary of foreign affairs. Tell them I'm bringing a French girl to Spain. Also get me a passport."

Puck quickly obliged as Santana made several calls with Quinn's help. She called the White House, the American Embassy, and the French Embassy.

In two hours, the five of them were leaving Paris, in a small Cessna plane, and out towards Spain, with all their things.

Santana fell asleep, leaning on Brittany's arm, as the sun rose up.

They arrived in Spain around mid-morning. The plane landed on Madrid and they rented an SUV and checked in a hotel. They had breakfast altogether. When they were done eating, all of them retreated to their own rooms.

Santana and Brittany went into the same room, to try to talk about the things that had happened on all the years they had missed.

"I know this would be awkward, but…Santana, good night. I haven't said that to you in seven years," Brittany smiled softly.

"Hey, Britt…I…I just want you to know, that I did not forget you."

"I know you did not, you love me. I know that in my heart."

"You know, when I lost you, I became a mugger, a thief, a swindler. It's ironic, isn't it? I grew up with the Church," Santana laid on the bed.

"It's ironic for me, too. Look at me," Brittany said as she laid beside Santana. "See how funny life is?"

"Yeah, I can see that," Santana smiled as she grazed a hand on Brittany's cheek. "But, no matter how hard life can become, I've always loved you…and here we are, in a hotel room, ready to go home."

"Home? Santana, wherever you are, I am comfortable. You know we can have a home wherever, as long as we're together. You're like a lighthouse that will guide me through the dark…so there's nothing to worry about."

"You're my lighthouse, something that gives me hope when all is dark and stormy…you know," Santana smiled at Brittany. And then there was silence. "What do you say, if we live together? My grandmother will be happy to have you around."

"You have a family? You found them?"

"Yeah, I robbed her, and she caught me. That's how I met her," Santana let out a chuckle.

"That's absurd."

"Actually, that's what really happened. I would rob, steal and swindle from other people. I would lie to them, but I will never, ever lie to you," Santana raised her left palm.

"And why is that so?"

"Because I love you, Brittany," Santana smiled.

"I love you too," Brittany smiled back.

"So, let's sleep?" Santana raised her eyebrows suggestively. "We still have a flight to catch this afternoon."

"Sure," Brittany said. "Goodnight," then she scooted over and placed a kiss on Santana's forehead.

Santana watched the sleeping blonde beside her on the backseat of their rented SUV. They were just staying in a hotel in Spain and then they will be flying back to California that afternoon. The day had been too tiring for her. After last night, and the flight from Paris that morning seemed to drain all of Santana's energy.

_But it was worth it._

The plane that would take them to California was waiting on the runway. Slowly, they made their way to the plane. Brittany stood there, open-mouthed at what she saw. All those times she was in Paris, she thought she had seen the rich side of the world, but right now…it was so different.

"Hey," Santana smiled at her and gestured her to sit beside her. Brittany had looked better. And more pretty.

"Hi," Brittany smiled back. It was a smile held back, but to Santana, it was more than enough.

"How do you feel? Are you okay?"

"Of course," Brittany smiled and held the brunette's hand in her own. "What about you? Aren't you tired? Your friends seemed to be so tired and all of you seemed to never sleep."

"I'm okay, Britt…I'm not tired. Do you want to sleep? It will be a long six hour travel," Santana smiled. But her involuntary muscles seemed to betray her. She yawned.

"You're okay, huh. You never changed Santana, you never changed. You're still as stubborn as ever," Brittany giggled.

Santana looked at her.

_God, she's beautiful when she laughs._

"What?" Brittany stopped giggling.

"Nothing, are you happy?" Santana asked.

"Yes, very much. I am so happy we're together again," Brittany said, her eyes glossy with tears.

"Nahh, you…don't you dare cry…" Santana smiled as she wagged a finger at Brittany.

"Sorry," Brittany laughed out. "You know, you need to sleep. Look at those eye bags," Brittany said.

"Alright, I'll sleep. Be here when I wake up," Santana said worriedly.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere…" Brittany said softly. "Do you want me to sing you to sleep?"

"Yes," Santana mumbled as she leaned on the crook of Brittany's neck.

Brittany started to sing, and it took Santana back to the cobwebbed, dust-smelling choir room where many, many years ago, a blonde sat behind a piano, with a wide-eyed brunette as her spectator…

_If there's one thing I know I can show you_

_What it means to be free but still hold you…_

_So now the chills are running down my spine_

_And we won't be needing to say goodbye,_

_I'm here to stay so we can say goodnight…_

Santana hummed in tune as her heart silently sung the song.

_Close your eyes…_

_I'll keep you safe…_

_Close your eyes…_

_I'll keep you warm…_

Santana was silently sleeping in her arms peacefully and they're on the air already, on the way to California. Yet, she did not stop singing.

_Easy…you'll be safe…_

_I am your way…_

_I…I know…_

_I was made to be your lighthouse…_

**A/N: the song I used here was Lighthouse by Love, Robot. So if you knew the song, let's keep on singing :) I love all of you. I was actually thinking of making this longer that's why I am labeling this fic as incomplete. Maybe I should make it longer (depends on the readers, though) Happy Halloween, everyone! xoxo._  
_**


End file.
